


Claiming

by virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural, Twilight (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Blood Play, Consent Issues, Crossover, Desire, Hunter Dean, Hurt Dean, M/M, Marking, Obsession, Possessive Sam, Pushy Sam, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times, Vampire Sam, Voyeurism, Wincest - Freeform, alternative universe, brash dean, captive dean, dubcon, intense sam, negotiated or extorted sex, obsessed sam, sam and dean are not bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:43:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 73,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4407008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is captured and held by the Cullens in their basement while they find themselves a new home, one where the hunters won't find them. Responsible for feeding and taking care of him, Sam Cullen develops an obsession with Dean. One that Dean foolishly tries to exploit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)  
>  Great big thank you to the talented smut_slut who made this banner as a prezzie, and got the atmosphere of the story just right.
> 
> Co-written with Fetish

Looking up at the up-high basement window, Dean cursed. Night was coming. The third one since he'd somehow let this vampire nest fucking get the best of him. Three days, he'd been chained in here. Okay, he'd only been chained two days... after he'd tried to escape. But here he was, every day waiting to see which of the bastards would be the first to try to suck on him. They were strong too, damned strong. Stronger than any he'd tangled with. And they all came with smart mouths.

He looked at the chain between his cuffed wrists and wished he had something... anything... a pin, didn't those women wear hair pins in their hair? "Fuck." Just as he let his closed fists fall to the ground, the chain clanking, the door opened. He saw a pair of feet, then long jeans clad legs as the figure made his way down the stairs. Good, it wasn't the blonde bitch who'd smacked him good.

Sam made his way down the stairs, after having returned from his hunt, his brothers and sisters had filled him in on what was going on and why. Stupid hunter, they had only wanted to be left alone, didn't they get that? It wasn't like they even drank human blood... ever.

Carrying the tray of food, Sam stepped off the last step and headed toward the small cage where they were keeping the guy that his siblings had captured.

Sam hadn't looked up, his eyes on the tray of disgusting food as he walked until now that he stood at the door of the cage. Looking up, slighty slanted golden-hazel eyes took in the sight of the man before him, jaw clenched muscle twitching. Licking his lips, Sam blew out a soft breath, "I brought you something to eat." he shook his head, "I dunno how good it is. We tried to make hamburgers and fries, but..." he shrugged a shoulder, the corner of his lips quirking upward.

"Trying to fatten me up like Hansel? Fuck you!" Dean stared at him. New guy. They kept crawling out of the woodwork. Just how many of them lived here? How many would he have to kill if... when he got out of here? The smile... the friendly look, it wasn't gonna fool him.

Sam sighed before leaning over to place the tray on the floor. Pulling back to his full height, Sam looked at the man and tilted his head to the side, a teasing grin pulling at his lip. "Hansel? What, you think we'd _eat_ you?" he shook his head slowly as he let his gaze slide over the man, slowly making a face. "Sorry, but you don't really, _do it_ for me." He winked and turned back toward the stairs only to stop and look back. "I'd eat that soon if I were you, Ros cooked it, or well, what she thought was cooking it." He pressed his lips together as his eyes went to the food then back to the man, "personally I think I'd go on a diet if I were you. Vampires aren't known for being great chefs."

"No kidding." Like he'd been been able to eat any of the 'meals' they'd offered. "I think she's trying to poison me." His stomach growled loudly even as he resisted the urge to pull the tray over. He waited a while for the vampire to leave, but when he didn't, he reached for the damned thing and opened up the bun, looking up suddenly in disbelief. "You want me to eat a raw meat sandwich? Sonova..." Dropping it down, Dean grabbed the too-few fries, which could have used some salt, and might have been better if they weren't so crunchy he was in danger of breaking his teeth... but other than that, were at least edible.

Sam tilted his head to the side as he watched the human. "Raw meat?" he shook his head, "It was cooked..." he grinned, "the fire alarm even went off, or maybe that was due to the oven mitt she caught on fire." With a shrug he watched the man eat in silence for a few minutes. Something about him... He licked his lips. "You know if you had just left us alone, this would never had happened to begin with," Sam pointed at him, "you brought this on yourself. We only wish to live a life without trouble, fit in, blend with the humans." He shrugged a shoulder, I don't think it is much to ask, do you?" he quirked a brow.

"Yeah, and you don't have fangs and drink blood. And you don't have a cage just hanging around in the basement of your house and chains," he raised his wrists. "You can _play_ human all you like, you're not fooling me. And if you're not fooling me, there are hundreds like me you're not fooling. They're probably on their way, right now." He broke a french fry into two, sucked on it a while trying to soften up the damned thing.

"We drink animal blood, fangs are dental work, nothing more," Sam answered. "As for the cage and chains," Sam quirked a brow, "you telling me you don't have things like that at your home, your... _basement_ or whatever it is you work out of? Sometimes when life hands you the barbaric, you have to follow suit." He narrowed his eyes, giving the man a pointed look.

"Fine... you're a _nice_ vampire. C'mere and let me go. I walk out that door, and its like we never saw each other." Green eyes clashed with hazel. "What's the matter, would that interfere with your dinner plans?" No matter what they said, he was sure he was on the menu. They could pretend to be civilized, but their vampire nature would get the best of them.

Sam was in front of the bars before Dean had time to blink, grabbing hold of the chin between the man's cuffed hands and pulling him over, then raising his arm high so that the man's hands were forced above his head. Sam reached between the bars with his free hand, catching the man's shirt and pulling him against the bars so tightly it forced the man to turn his head to the side. "If I were going to feed from you, little human, you would already be dry," Sam growled between clenched teeth, before curling his lip and showing his fangs.

As his face and body were slammed against the bars, Dean gave a growl all of his own, trying to pull the fuck away. He couldn't. And he was forced to look at the wickedly sharp looking fangs, and the anger flashing in those deceivingly soft eyes. Shit, the bastard was going to pull his arms out of their socket. "So what... you're gonna starve me to death? Pull my arms off, what?" He pulled his head back as far as he could, biting back a groan of pain.

Sam narrowed his eyes a small snarl sounding deep in his chest. "We are _trying_ to feed you, you thankless piece of shit!" Sam released the man's shirt, wrapping his arm around his middle instead, holding him trapped against the bars. Sam's gaze flickered up to Dean's wrists above their heads, before he slowly looked down at Dean and smiled, "Sorry, I forgot that you're _short_ ," he told him, lowering his hand a little, but keeping Dean's hands above his head.

Dean had a hard time keeping his mouth shut, but he did. Right now, he was at a disadvantage, and mouthing off was what had gotten him caged and chained. He needed to be smarter... smarter than that, than him... them.

Drawing in a deep breath, Sam stilled, eyes widening before he turned his head quickly away, releasing Dean abruptly as he catapulted away from him as though shot from a sling-shot across the room, his back smacking against the far wall. Sam's head hung, his now suddenly inky black eyes concealed by long bangs as he took in slow deep breaths. The man's scent, he hadn't noticed it at first, but then, when he was so close, and Sam had breathed it in, his body's intense reactions were shocking. Right now, with his teeth aching, his eyes dark, he was every bit the monster that this man, this hunter accused him of being... he wanted so badly to sink his fangs in and drink and... And what?

Sam slowly raised his head, his eyes still hidden by his bangs as he looked at the man from under his brows. "Your name? Tell me your name."

Dean was rolling his shoulders and had retreated from the edge of the cage to the back wall, his eyes suspiciously flicking to Sam. Just what the hell that acrobatic maneuver was about, he wasnt gonna ask. But when he met the vampire's gaze, everything had changed. There wasn't a bit of softness in the now pitch black eyes that looked at him. What the hell? "Hendrix. It's Jimmy Hendrix."

Breath snickered out of Sam as he lowered his gaze to the floor, laughing at the name that the man had given him. Did he think he was a fool? But, Sam wasn't going to argue with him. If he wanted to pretend to be an old 70's African-American guitar player, then so be it.

Slowly lifting his head, Sam nodded, "Alright, _Jimmy_." He gave a tight lipped smile, "I think I should go. Have a good night." Moving with vampiric speed, Sam fled the basement, the basement door slamming closed moments after he was already in his own bedroom on the second floor.

"Don't let the door hit you..."

Dean went and sat down, leaning against the cold wall. It would only get colder, he knew how it was at night. Damned vampires had a luxurious home but no heat.

He sighed. Yeah... he hated every one of them. But hours of having no one to talk to almost made him hope one of them would come back. Maybe this last one. He seemed.... well there was something about him, different. They were all pretty easy to rile up, but this one seemed... mercurial, but he had a sense of humor. Dean could tell he'd gotten the Hendrix thing, but he hadn't pitched a fit like the blonde would have.

He kept trying to think of some way to get out of this hell hole, but somehow, his mind kept wandering right back to that guy. What had that flying leap been about? And why had his eyes turned colors? He should have kept him down here, kept him talking. Dammit.

* * *

Sam made his way through the darkened Cullen home to the basement, his brothers and sisters, his mother and father having retired to their rooms, though they did not sleep, _camping out_ in their rooms at night helped them pretend to fit into the human world and ways. It was also the time when his brothers and sisters had time along together, intimate time. Just like his parents, or well, the closest thing he had to parents, Carlisle and Esme. Sam was the last single Cullen. Even Edward had found his Bella.

Pushing the door to the basement, Sam made his way slowly down the stairs. The lights weren't on, but Sam could see as well as if the sun itself was shining into the room. Stopping at the last step, he tilted his head to the side as he looked at the man laying curled into a ball on the floor. Okay, now he knew that humans did _not_ normally sleep like that. Why was he curled into a tight ball like that?

Stepping closer to the cage, Sam crouched, peering through the bars. Slowly he reached a hand out his fingertips against the man's bare arm as he frowned, brow creased in confusion.

He'd just started falling asleep when the touch jerked him out of it with a start. "What?!" In a fluid motion, Dean sat up and rubbed his arms, trying to see who it was that had come to check on him now. His eyes adjusted to the darkness. "You. What do you want?" he demanded.

"Why were you huddled in a ball?" Sam asked right back.

"Cause you're fucking freezing me, what do you think?" He pushed up off the floor and stood up, not wanting the guy to have the advantage of height over him. "I need to go for a leak."

Sam slowly pulled to his full height, "You're cold?" he shook his head, "sorry, we didn't notice that it was... cold. I'm the only one around right now, so, I guess I'll have to take you, I understand that my sisters have been taking you up until now?" Sam asked as he crouched down again and uncinched the chain from the lock on one of the bars, so that a long chain trailed from the metal cuffs on Dean's wrists. Standing back up, he he pulled a key from his pocket and reached for the lock on the metal door. His gaze met Dean's, key stilling in the lock. "I don't know about my sisters, but if you try to get away on me, I will hunt you, find you and kill you all before you can draw more than a single breath away from here. Do I make myself clear?" Sam asked him, eyes intent on the pulse point in the man's throat. 

"All in a days work, I'm sure," Dean muttered through gritted teeth, refusing to look away. Despite his bravado, he felt a distinct drop in the temperature in the room, just from the frost coming from the vampire's eyes. Yeah... probably not gonna try to run today.

Unlocking the door to the cage, Sam reached inside to grab a hold of Dean's shirt front and all but pull him out with a hard tug. "Stairs, now." Sam told him, giving the guy a slight push toward them, following a step or two behind, careful not to breathe in his scent.

Sniffing, Dean tried to shove him away, but he'd already been released. Fucking chains made noise with every step he took, though at least his feet were free. "What's the hurry?" He took the steps a bit faster, thinking he might get another shove if he didn't. Course it was dark so he couldn't really see the stairs... the moonlight didn't hit this area. His foot slipped and almost tumbling back, he cursed up a storm.

Sam paused, his arm snaking out as he drew the guy up against him. "Careful, wouldn't want you to fall down the stairs," Sam told him, his voice dark and low, rumbling from deep within his chest, before he abruptly released the guy and gave him a slight push forward.

Grabbing the railing, Dean moved faster. He wasn't sure whether the words were a warning or a threat, though the guy did keep him from falling. He didn't want to be grateful, not to any of them.

Holding the human up against him had not been a good idea, the man's scent had worked it's way into him even though Sam had been holding his breath, had danced around his mind and caressed his hunger, his bloodlust, making his teeth ache, his eyes darken. It had been the reason he had released him so abruptly, giving him a push. Setting temptation just a little further away than pressed against him.

At the top of the stairs, Dean opened the door to the main house and stepped out into a hall. Turning to the right, where he knew there was a huge ceiling to floor window, he looked longingly at the tree branches with moonlight streaming through them. Would he ever make it out there? Maybe it was better to take a run, dive through the window and if he was gonna die... die out there.

"That's not the bathroom." Sam told him, standing a couple steps away from him, "you know where it is by now." He jutted his chin in the direction. "Go. I'm right behind you," he said, but made no move to step closer as he waited near the door of the basement, eyes narrowed and intent on the hunter ready for any sudden moves, but unwilling to get closer unless he had to.

Dean looked up into his face. How could monsters have faces like these people? Perfect, normal, beautiful even? Because it was just camouflage, for theeir true natures. Giving the briefest nod, he turned in the other direction and trudged to the bathroom, pushing the door open. "You gonna supervise?" He raised his chin, giving the guy a scathing look. His sister had, and she'd tried to make a few quips about his equipment, which had ended up with him turning toward her midstream. Right... that might be another reason for the bad food.

Sam followed and was now standing at the door watching him. "Do Ros and Alice watch you?" Sam quirked a brow as he folded his arms across his chest, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips, "Would you rather I go get one of them?"

"Jerk." Dean stepped into the bathroom, and kicked the door shut. Unzipping his pants, he stepped in front of the crapper and took care of business. At the same time, he searched around for anything that could be useful. His gaze slipped over the bare counter, too the medicine chest.

"You know, I don't hear anything anymore." Sam called through the door. "And I have very good hearing."

Dean glared at the door as he zipped up and walked to the sink. Leaving the water on, he started going through the drawers and cabinet under the sink. Nothing. Reaching up, he slid open the mirrored medicine cabinet and not so surprisingly found... nothing. Didn't they even have 'props' so they could properly pretend to be humans?

Sam pushed open the door and peeked inside. "Unless you are giving yourself a sponge bath no one takes _that long_ to wash their hands," he grumbled out. Quirking a brow, the corner of his lips quirking up he leaned against the door jam. "Find what you were looking for? Want me to get you a butcher knife?" he chuckled and shook his head, before pointing at the faucet, "turn off the water and let's go."

"Would you?" Cursing under his breath, he washed his hands and then wiped them on his tee shirt. Fuck, just got colder. And they'd taken his jeans off and changed him into some hospital pants or something. "Ever heard of the Geneva convention?" He stepped up to the door, searching the guy's face. Something about him was interesting, but Dean had no time to find out. He was sick of this.... he needed to find a way out, now.

Sam tilted his head as his arms fell to his sides. "Geneva Convention?" he quirked a brow, "I highly doubt this classifies as you being a prisoner of war." He stepped back so Dean could walk out of the bathroom in front of him. "If you're cold, I can bring you a blanket, I guess," Sam mumbled, as he eyed the man before him, "for a price." Golden hazel eyes met green and locked, "I want your name. Real name. At least your first name," Sam shook his head slowly, "Makes no difference about your last name, can be Smith for all I care."

"Why do you care?" Dean pinned him with his eyes, still trying to figure him out. "So you can put it on my grave?"

Sam smiled at him, full blown, dimples showing, before he dropped his gaze and drew in a shaky breath. "Something like that, I guess." He swallowed, licking his lips slowly, but it wasn't the guys blood he was thinking of as he looked at him. Well, sure, it was in there too, but the thought of what it would be like to pull the guy up against him, whispering his name before dipping his head and tasting his lips was the first thought that ran through Sam's mind.

"Peter. It's Peter. Frampton." This time, it was Dean who was grinning. He knew the guy wasn't gonna buy it, but for some reason his playfulness seemed to be catching.

Sam nodded, "Uh-huh, I see. Well, Peter, I hope that your music keeps you warm tonight." Sam nodded toward the basement, "Now move."

Dean was a bit startled by the guy's sudden change in mood. He'd actually expected him to laugh or... something. "Dean," he nodded walking past him. "And what do I call you?" He stopped, turning to find the vampire a little too close for comfort. Damn, he'd barely heard him come up behind him.

Sam stared intently at the man before him, able to feel the heat from his body. Sam could hear the blood pumping through the guy's veins, the steady beat of his heart, smell his scent. It had Sam's eyes darkening even as he looked at him. "Sam." he answered softly, before tearing his gaze away and taking a step backward, reaching out to move Dean along in front of him.

As they passed the sofa, Sam grabbed a decorative throw blanket, tucking it under his arm, but remained quiet as he followed Dean to the basement door. Reaching past Dean to open it caused Sam to lean into Dean a little, as he did. Sam's eyes closed and against his better judgment, Sam drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with Dean's scent. His eyes turning inky in the process.

He had been about to thank Sam for getting the blanket, so Dean turned his head and caught the expression on his face, eyes closed and breathing him in almost like one might breathe in the perfumed scent of a lover. Nah... had to be his imagination...

The hand on the door moved quickly to wrap around Dean's middle, drawing him up against Sam's form. "Careful, don't want you to tumble down the stairs." Sam told him softly, cold breath ghosting over Dean's ear.

"Wha..." Dean stood stock still. Violence, he knew how to deal with. Getting pulled up flush against another man's body, while wearing thin cotton pants that allowed him to feel every hard plane of the guy's body... that he wasn't so sure what to do with, especially when he was at the guy's mercy. His heart raced a little faster. He licked his lip. "I'm fine. _Thanks._ " It seemed to take another minute before he was released.

Grabbing the railing, he started to head down, his mind a bit of a jumbled mess at this new development. Now why couldn't it be one of the women who had a thing for him, if that's what this was? He'd know how to work that angle, no problem. He reached the cage and reluctantly pulled the door open. This was the part where they usually had to shove him in, or where he pissed them off.

Sam opened the blanket and nodded inside the cage, "Get in and I'll cover you up, tuck you in." He gave a faint smile, careful not to show his fangs, he knew he likely looked like he wanted to eat Dean now, and the hunter would think that was exactly what he was wanting. Sadly, he wouldn't be too far off with that guess, add in a little kissing, groping and manhandling.

Dean's knuckles whitened. Soft words, soft smile... but a cage was still a cage. "I don't want to be inside that thing. What if there's a fire?" he asked, looking at him, wondering if he should just have agreed instead of engaging him in any conversation. That thing on the stairs... it wasn't over, he could see it from the way Sam was still focusing on him. His stomach tensed, but it wasn't really fear.

Sam looked from Dean to the cage and back, shook his head slowly. "No fires," _None like you are thinking of anyway._ He tilted his head to the side, "I could... sit here, with you... if," he licked his lips, "if it would make you feel better."

Giving him a look filled with suspicion, Dean just walked in and sat on the hard floor, leaning against the wall and looking back up at him. He had his elbows on his knees, a slightly rebellious expression, and was a bit confused. Tell him to stay and entertain him and risk something worse than boredom? "How long?" he asked, eventually as Sam approached with the blanket. He noticed that Sam hadn't locked the chain back to the bars, and wasn't about to remind him.

Sam's eyes widened slightly, "Excuse me?" he asked, pausing in mid stride.

"How long?" Dean repeated, wondering if there was a chance in hell he'd found a vamp with bad hearing. "How long do you plan to keep me?" He didn't say before they killed him.

Sam blinked and licked his lips, giving a rather audible sigh. "I don't know exactly," he shrugged a shoulder, "until we know for a fact that you're no longer a threat." He quirked a brow and gave Dean a pointed look, before continuing forward and kneeling before Dean, covering him with the blanket, his eyes on what he was doing, tucking the ends of the large throw around Dean as best as he could. "So, see, this is all really your own fault, if you think about it." Sam explained, glancing up into jade eyes that he knew he could get lost in, trying not to breathe anymore.

"How do you figure?"

Sam licked his lips, his hands smoothing over the blanket and Dean's body as much as he could,more than necessary as he frowned thoughtfully. "If you had just left us alone to begin with, none of this would have ever happened." His dark eyes lifted to Dean's. _And I wouldn't be wanting to push you to the floor right about now._

The smart answer that might have gotten his head banged against the bars died on Dean's lips as he felt Sam's hands run over him. His lips parted... he wanted to say something, but didn't know what. The sensations running through his body weren't unpleasant exactly. Aw shit, he'd been here too long with hardly anyone to talk to. Now even someone touching him felt nice. He looked down, but didn't knock those hands away, like he should have. "Are we talking days? Weeks?" he didn't want to ask about months or years.

Sam bit his lip as he looked at Dean, slowly he shook his head. "Don't make me tell you that. You know it won't be today. I think you're smart enough to know that it won't be tomorrow either." He sighed and looked down, his eyes tracking the movements of his hands. "My father will know when the time is right." He nodded, "When he says so," he looked up again, "that's when we'll let you go. Not before." Sam offered him a small smile, "Warmer?"

"Yeah. Thanks," he forced the last word out, past the resentment that had him wanting to turn away and roll up into a Goddamn ball again. He tried to meet Sam's gaze and found that Sam was looking down. He was still caressing him over the blanket. It was real soothing, except when he ran over Dean's hand and made the chains linked to his cuffs clink together. "You some sort of... masseuse?" That might explain his overly touchy feeliness.

Sam chuckled as he shook his head, "No," he looked up at Dean, dark eyes dancing, deep dimples in his cheeks, "that would be rather odd now wouldn't it? A vampire masseuse? I'd be having to dash out of the room for sips of blood so I didn't drink my customers." He shook his head and looked back down, his smile slowly melting away into a frown. "Naw, the only people I've ever really touched have been my family," he licked his lips and shrugged a shoulder, "for a very long time now anyway."

Looking back up at the hunter he quirked a brow, "Why? Was that some sort of 'hunter way' of asking me to rub your back or something?"

He was still processing what Sam said, unable to decide what parts were real and what parts Sam was making up when Sam's question sank in, making him sit suddenly straight. "Nah that's not..." He shook his head. "And no one's done that since..." _Since my father and brother got themselves killed._ He cleared his throat, trying not to think of back then. Years had gone by, years... why should he feel a wreck still whenever he thought of them? Feeling his eyes stinging, he looked away.

Sam eyed the hunter in silence for a long while before he lifted a hand and cupped the side of his jaw, his thumb running slowly over Dean's bottom lip as he looked at him. "I didn't mean to make you sad," he told him softly, tilting his head. "You have... nice lips. Like Rosalie's only without all the make-up she cakes on them." The corners of his mouth turned up slightly before his hand fell away and he took a deep breath, tearing his gaze away from Dean's face, feeling his teeth start to ache again. "I should go."

Letting out his breath, Dean nodded. What the hell? What the hell was that? And why hadn't he pulled away? Why had he expected to be pulled into the arms of the enemy and be given a hug? _Maybe because no one gives you one these days._ Closing his eyes, Dean leaned his head against the wall. "Sam?"

He swallowed. "When you get a chance, maybe a pillow?" Opening his eyes again, he searched the vampire's face. He seemed a lot kinder and more emotional than his sisters.

Sam moved to get up, only to pause in mid motion, his gaze locking with Dean's, his jaw clenched as his teeth began to ache more, the sound of Dean's heartbeats louder now, the blood rushing through his veins, or was it that he was just thinking more about it? Thinking about how it would be to taste those lips and then maybe that blood... how it would be to run his hands over Dean without the blanket in the way.

Giving a small nod Sam looked away and closed his eyes, tried to think about something, anything else. He knew his eyes had darkened to an inky black, knew his fangs were enlongated, knew he could pin Dean to the floor and take what he wanted without even trying. But, he wouldn't, they weren't like that, the Cullens, and _he_ was a Cullen.

Slowly Sam opened his eyes and looked back at Dean. "A pillow?" he asked him, tilting his head. "How much is it worth to you that I try to find you a pillow? What will you give me in return?" he asked, his voice deeper than it had been a moment ago, husky, soft, and yeah, in the way of a vampire, seductive.

"You already got my pants. My shirt..." looking down at his gray tee, he shrugged. "Won't give you my amulet." He could feel it pressing against his chest and knew they hadn't taken it from him. "What do you want, Sam?" He looked down at the silver ring on his finger, then back up. The look in those dark eyes took his breath away something fierce. Hell, he hadn't felt like this since junior high when a high school chick had flashed him.

Sam moved closer, his face inches from Dean's as inky black eyes stared intently into green. Sam slowly shook his head. "What's the pillow and my time trying to find you one worth to you? What are you willing to give me?" Sam asked him, his voice still darkly seductive. His gaze dropped to Dean's lips before he looked back at him. "What's it worth? Tick - tock, time's wasting."

His heart banged against his chest. His mouth burned under Sam's intense stare. He felt himself swaying forward, then abruptly pulled back. "You're barking up the wrong tree, Sam" Yeah? Then why was he disappointed by his own choice? "I'll... I'll tell you anything you want. 'One' thing." He knew it sounded like he was offering nothing. "Hunters have their secrets. We don't... talk much." Not that he was that interesting.

Sam pulled back abruptly, walking out of the cell and closing the door without another word, letting the ring of the metal bars slamming together be his answer to Dean's offer. In the next breath, he was gone from the basement, the basement door slamming closed behind him.

Dean winced at the sound of the slamming doors. Finally letting his breath go, he slumped against the wall again, this time pulling up and bunching a bit of the blanket to put under his head. His heart was still racing. Questions rushed through his mind. Had he read Sam correctly? Of course he had, he'd wanted a kiss. Just the thought made Dean's lips fucking burn. Wrong. Wrong and Wrong. And then, had Sam been angry? He'd left like a bat outta hell, that was for sure. But if that was his temper, then he was much more of a pushover than his sister, Ros. Dean would remember that. Use it. Use Sam... maybe he was his ticket out.

When he closed his eyes, he saw green/gold eyes shifting to ebony and back to green. He'd have to ask what it meant. None of the sources he'd ever looked at spoke about that in vampires. None. But it was... beautiful.

 

 

* * *

"Sonova!" Dean clawed his way up from the floor, water dripping from his hair into his eyes and face. Shirt sopping wet and stuck to his chest. Cotton pants wrinkled and clinging to his flesh. "The hell is--" This time he was shoved into the wall, and Ros' face was in his.

"You needed a bath, you got one. Stop whining."

"It was fucking cold. What about a tow--" He was shoved again, this time he tried to fight back and punched her. "Argghh... shit!" his fist felt like it hit a fucking wall.

"Get to your place, before I eat you," she snarled, and shoved him again, hard, out of the bathroom and toward the open door leading to the basement stairs.

Dean was catapulted forward, and there was nothing he could do to keep his balance.

Sam was just coming into the house having been gone the better part of the morning when he heard the yelling coming from down the hall, then the sound of a punch being thrown. Hearing his sister's angry outburst, and Dean's yell, he could only assume he had punched her. Had she punched him, he most likely would be unconscious right now, or dead.

Hurrying into the hallway to the basement door to cut them off, Sam made it just in time to catch Dean on the fifth stair down after he had fallen down the first two and banged the shit outta.... well, some part or another as Sam had heard the sickening thud of human flesh against cement block.

"Rosalie!" Sam yelled at her, "You're gonna kill him! That's enough!" Sam's eyes narrowed on his sister, his arms wrapped around Dean's middle, holding him up against his frame. The water from Dean's clothes steadily soaked through into Sam's but he was barely aware of it as he argued with his sister.

"He was being an ass! He wanted a bath, I gave him one!"

"In his fucking clothes!?" Sam asked her.

Rosalie huffed, "Well, I wasn't undressing that _thing_! Besides, it's not _my_ problem!"

Sam huffed and took a deep breath trying not to lose his temper. "He's fucking freezing!"

"So the water was a little cool, this is NOT the Holiday Inn and I am NOT some japanese handmaiden, his geisha girl or whatever!" she spat at him coldly.

A snarl tore from Sam's lips. " _I've_ got him, Ros! Just go!" Sam told her, before reaching out and slamming the basement door in her face.

Looking over Dean's shoulder at his face, "You alright?" he asked softly.

His vocal oaths had long turned into silent mental ones as he dealt with the pain radiating through him. If Sam hadn't got him... yeah, he'd have been a lot worse off. He was uncharacteristically silent while brother and sister argued, but he hoped it didn't look like he was hiding behind Sam... even if maybe he was. Just a little. "Great. I'm just awesome. This is better than any Holiday Inn I've never stayed at."

Shivering, he clung to Sam. "I need help getting down there." He needed to see if his knee was busted. "And maybe you can keep her off my ass? Unless you're really trying to get me to an early grave."

Sam nodded, "She won't bother you anymore. When I'm not here I'll tell Alice or Jasper to take care of you. They're a lot better tempered than Ros." Sam turned Dean around in his arms as he spoke. "Lemme see, where did you hit?" Sam asked him as he nearly braced Dean up against the wall before crouching, his golden/hazel eyes roaming over Dean's wet form looking for injury.

"Fucking all over." He gripped the wall with the palm of his hands, and when he saw Sam wasn't about to help him till he answered, he relented. "I dunno, hip... knee. Just," he moved his hand to Sam's shoulder, "... you help me down, I'll check it." He tried to put some weight on one leg and made a sound of pain. "Think I blew out my knee."

Sam clenched his jaw, muscle twitching as he looked up at Dean, anger clear on his face, anger at his sister for being such a bitch to something weaker than she was. Pulling to his full height, Sam reached down and in one fluid motion, picked Dean up, one arm under his knees one at his back and started carrying him down the stairs.

"No... I don't need to be pick--" yeah but who was listening? This vamp was _definitely_ hard of hearing!

"When we get down here, I'll take a better look. If you are injured too badly, my father is a doctor, a splendid surgeon, he can take care of you." Sam told him, not looking at him, his face still a mask of anger, lips tightly pressed together.

Reaching the cage, Sam opened the door with one hand that was under Dean's knees, kicking it open as he took a step back out of the door's way, then entered, crouching down, Sam gently placed Dean on the floor, and reached for the waistband of the hospital scrubs they had given him to wear and began pulling them down.

Dean was moving the blanket so it wouldn't get wet when he felt Sam's hands on his pant. "Ah... what are you..." Before he could get his protest out, his pants were peeled to his thighs. Yeah, he needed to get the wet clothes off but he held onto his shorts with a death grip. When his gaze met Sam's, it felt like he'd been burned, and he looked back down at the damage to his leg. His hip was pretty banged up and red. He thought it might bruise in a few hours.

As Sam pulled Dean's pants off of him, his eyes started to darken, his teeth aching as with each breath he drew in Dean's scent, though he tried to ignore it. Sam's hands slowly slid down Dean's leg to his injured hip and legs.

"Ahh," Dean moved his hand over Sam's as the vampire brushed his knee causeing a sharp pain. Taking a breath, he nodded, and lifted his legs. "Sonova..." Right, his chances of escaping just got worse.

Looking up at Dean's face, jaw set he nodded. "Okay, I'll get my Dad to look at that. Let me go get you some dry clothes, and no, those," he pointed at the boxer shorts, "are comin' off, they're wet too. You can wear a pair of mine. I'm sure I have something..." he frowned harder as he looked down at Dean's knee again. "She knows you break fucking easy, I dunno what the hell has gotten into her," he grumbled.

"Just clothes, that'll be fine," Dean said, unsure if he wanted yet another vampire peering at him. He wanted to make a joke about stretching out Sam's shorts, but the hard look on his face stopped him. Was he that angry at his sister over this?

Sam lifted his gaze to Dean's, "I'll get you another blanket too," he smiled slightly, " bought you a pillow today too." He shrugged a shoulder, "I saw it and well..." he cleared his throat, "Anyway, I'll get it and the other stuff and be right back."

"Didn't you have any pillows?" He raise a brow and seeing Sam shake his head 'no,' he wondered at the fact that the vampire would have gone out of his way to buy a new one. Last night, he'd wanted 'payment.' His stomach muscles tensed at the thought. And no, those were not butterflies he was feeling.

Sam pulled up, walking out of the cage, closing and locking it behind him, before he took the stairs two at a time. Once upstairs, Sam found Rosalie and they got into it again over Dean, their raised angry voices loud enough to wake the dead.

By the time Sam came back down the steps, he nearly had steam coming out of his ears he was so pissed off at his sister. He unlocked the cage door and yanked it open, then crouched before Dean, laying a king size baby blue pillow on the floor beside him, and two more folded blankets, one smaller that was the same color and soft material as the pillow, the other large and thick, obviously a bed comforter.

"I brought an ice pack. I read somewhere that you put this on bumps so they don't swell," Sam grumbled out distractedly, setting the ice pack down on the floor and reaching for the waistband of Dean's boxers.

"I think you told her off _a little_ better than I... hey," once again, his hands settled over Sam's. "I can take it from here. Seriously." No, no, no butterflies. Twenty eight year old hunters didn't get them from being touched by male vampires in their early twenties. They just didnt, dammit. Dean shivered again. "But thanks... for the clothes and ice. Could you," he jerked his chin toward the outside of the cage, gesturing for Sam to turn.

Sam smiled at him. "Shy?" he quirked a brow, "I wouldn't have thought that about you. Huh..." he pulled to his full height, tossing Dean the boxers and sweat pants as he did and stepped outside the cage, closing the door after himself.

"I didn't say you had to go all the way..." he rolled his eyes. "And no, I'm not shy. But you're not about to play doctor." Giving Sam's back a stern look, he started to change. It went excruciatingly slowly, because every movement hurt. How hard had she fucking thrown him? He took a couple of breathes, screwed his eyes closed and made a low groaning sound as he got the shorts past his knees. If he couldn't bend it... it just made it harder.

The noises Dean was making, Sam knew he was in pain and he was being stupid not letting him help. Turning back around and yanking the door open, Sam moved inside, kneeling beside him, faster than the hunter could move to cover himself or stop Sam's progress. His hands on the waistband of the pants to help him, Sam looked Dean in the eye. "Don't be stupid, I'm not going to..." he pressed his lips together, "molest you," he nodded, gesturing toward the pants they both held the waistband of, "just help you so you aren't in here making sex noises while you try to dress, because that's _far_ more awkward."

"Sex noises." Offended, Dean didn't even fight as Sam pulled his pants the rest of the way off, then started to help him into new shorts. "Believe me, if I make sex noises you'll know. More like..." Several fake moans worthy of any woman who'd had to fake an orgasm broke out of him before he realized what he'd been doing and snapped his mouth shut. Clearing his throat, he moved his arm over his groin area, half covering himself as Sam pulled the shorts all the way up.

He'd expected pain, but Sam was so gentle, there was none. He'd even lifted him up, so Dean didn't have to make the effort of pushing up on one leg. But by the time Sam had the shorts up, he was leaning over Dean, so fucking close, it reminded Dean of last night. His pulse racing, he started to pull up on his wet tee shirt.

 

Kneeling directly over Dean's lap, Sam reached for the hem of the wet tee, his gaze never leaving Dean's as his hands slowly slid the wet cotton up over his slick flesh. "I don't think you'd sound like that at all," Sam told him softly, his darkened hazel/gold eyes searching Dean's face, "I think I have a pretty good idea on my own what you might sound like," he frowned, "and you do a poor imitation of yourself."

His hands slid up Dean's sides and back down, the cotton clinging to itself where he had pushed it up, just under Dean's chin. Sam's eyes darkened as he gazed into Dean's, his teeth starting to ache as he continued to run his hands along Dean's flesh. Moving his hands higher, he ran a thumb over one nipple, then back across again. "I didn't bring a shirt," Sam smiled, but it didn't look as friendly or as flirtatious as it was suppose to with his fangs elongated. He shrugged a shoulder, "guess I forgot. What's it worth to you for me to go get you one, Dean? What are you willing to trade for it?" Sam licked his lips slowly, his tongue running along his bottom lip as his gaze dropped to Dean's mouth then returned again to his eyes. "Oh, and the price went up from what the pillow would have cost." He smiled again and this time, meant it when he showed fang.

Dean shivered. Once again, it wasn't only because he was cold. The way Sam had touched him... barely touched him... made him warm in all sorts of ways it shouldn't. His eyes met Sam's, tension coiling in his stomach, then dropped to his mouth where his straight teeth were framed by longer fangs. "What would... what would the pillow have cost," he asked, a little lightheaded, but he hadn't hit his head. "What... what did you want for it?" When he looked up again, his heart stuttered at the predatory look in Sam's dark eyes... but he didn't sense any danger, not of death at least.

Sam slowly shook his head, "We aren't negotiating for pillows now. Doesn't matter what I would have wanted for it," he nodded toward the pillow without looking away from Dean's eyes. "You have it now, that's what matters, right?" he smiled slightly, head tilting, "What are you willing to part with for the shirt, Dean? What that you think I might want are you willing to give me in exchange? Make me an offer." 

 

He should tell Sam to pound sand. To take the fucking pillow and the clothes and cram 'em up his ass. He should. But he wanted to survive this, didn't want to die of freakin' pneumonia. That's what he told himself as he worked up the nerve to make an offer. "Longsleeved shirt. Warm." His eyes met Sam's. Something shifted in his gut... tightened. His heart was ramming against his chest so hard he could hear it. Licking his lips, he forced the words out. "You can kiss me." Shit! He pointed at him. "After I'm all dressed."

Sam's lips slowly curved into a smile, "Long sleeved, warm, and a tee," he shrugged a shoulder, "in case you get hot." He licked his lips, "And I kiss you _now_."

"You're pushing it." Dean shivered, struggled to keep his teeth from chattering.

The silence was unnerving.

He took a breath. "Okay." The single word was almost inaudible.

Sam pressed his lips together, his gaze dropping to Dean's mouth. "It's not a death sentence, it's just a kiss." Sam told him, voice soft, as he slowly leaned in, his eyes flickering closed as his mouth slanted over Dean's.

Sam's tongue darted out to run along Dean's bottom lip, tried to press between his tightly pressed lips, but ended up drawing back, the kiss ending with Sam nipping at Dean's bottom lip as his eyes slowly opened. "That was nice... if you were my _Grandma_ ," Sam huffed the last bit, as he pulled up to his full height and turned, walking out of the cage. "I'll send Alice back with the shirts," he mumbled as he walked to the stairs and out.

"Grandma..." Dean's chest rose and fell as he gasped for air. "My grandma would probably have fainted thinking about two men kissing."

The instant Sam was gone, he reached for the sweatpants and struggled to get them on. At least no one was there to hear his grunts of pain. When he was done, he leaned against the wall, pulled the blankets over hand placed the icepack on his knee, hoping to hell it would heal fast. If Ros got to him one more time, he wouldn't even be able to balance, or ... yeah.

He looked up again at the stairs. No one. These people were trying to freeze him to death. He closed his eyes, and warmth crept stealthily into his thoughts. A warm flush had passed through him at the touch of Sam's mouth, even though he'd sealed his lips tightly against any sort of tongue invasion. But there had been tongue. Dean licked his lips, where Sam had, tasting him there. His mouth started to burn.

"Oh God... I think I'm going nuts." He shouted at no one in particular, taking a couple more deep breaths. This was not the time to hyperventilate.


	2. Chapter 2

The door to the basement opened again and small delicate feet made their way down the steps, a tray of food balanced on one hand, a folded sweater and tee shirt in the other.

Walking over to the cage, Alice smiled sweetly. "I brought you breakfast. Scrambled eggs, ketchup... we heard somewhere that humans liked ketchup on their eggs... and this stuff," she wrinkled her nose, "Um, bacon." She set the tray down on the floor.

The smell of food made his stomach rumble out loud. Breakfast... and it actually smelled decent. He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up, but he couldn't help it. He pushed up to go to her, cursing as he tried to put even a little weight on his leg. Hopping, he gripped the bars to steady himself, knew sitting down again was going to be a major pain... but he'd have to since she put the food on the ground. And why was she being so sweet? Yeah, at least she'd never been cruel like her sister.

"Oh and my brother wanted me to bring you his clothes," she added, handing him the shirts through the bars of the cage, then standing, her arms clasped behind her back, watching him a knowing look in her golden eyes. "Do you like him? My brother?" she smiled sweetly, lips pressed together.

He took the tee and put it on, switching hands on the bars then shrugging on the thicker sweater-like shirt on, when his eyes flew to hers. "What the hell kinda question is that?" For no reason, he seemed to tense.

Alice shrugged her slim shoulders as she gazed at him with a knowing look. "Just curious," she offered, the barest hint of a smile gracing her lips.

Before she could say more the basement door opened again and Carlisle walked down the stairs. Without taking her gaze off Dean, Alice addressed him. "Take good care of him, Car - uh, I mean, Dad," she smirked, and spun around on her toes, prancing away toward the stairs, "I need to talk to Rosalie," she told Carlisle happily as she passed him.

Giving her a speculative look, Dean turned his suspicious gaze to her 'dad.' The guy didn't look old enough to... yeah, vampire. Guy masquerading as a doctor. He moved away from the bars, and the man walked inside, introducing himself in a gentle voice, much like Sam's. It was eerie, the way they went from treating him like a prisoner to a guest, or a guest in a prison. It was very confusing, and he hated that. He needed clarity. Maybe he even preferred Ros' treatment - because he knew what was real.

To his surprise, Dr. Cullen was even more gentle than Sam and knew what the hell he was doing. In hardly any time, the man had him bandaged and redressed. Dean only just prevented himself from asking what _his_ price was for the treatment, but changed his mind. He didn't need to be giving vampires any ideas.

He finally sat down and looked at the tray of inedible food. The scrambled eggs were so damned burned that even with a lot of ketchup, he couldn't get them down. The bacon was burned too, but he managed to eat that, then he licked every last bit of ketchup off the plate, licking his fingers off.

Day 4. He left his mark on the wall, using the spoon they'd given him. God, it felt so much longer.

* * *

Each time Dean thought he was going out of his head with boredom, Sam seemed to show up. A couple of the times, he brought the pain meds the doc had prescribed. What, were they afraid he'd take them all at once if they left them here? He asked Sam point blank what did they care if he died. The vampire didn't answer his question, and frustratingly only agreed it was a good question.

At first, they barely talked. It took a while for Dean to get used to being watched so intently, something that this particular Cullen seemed to do. He'd catch Sam's eyes on him, or on his mouth. A question would linger in his eyes, one that Dean refused to answer. It was weird though, how without touching him, Sam could make him feel like he was being caressed. Sometimes it took Dean's breath away.

Like now. His tee shirt had ridden up his stomach, and he wouldn't have known it but from the heat that skittered along the surface of his skin. It was from Sam's stare. How... he didn't know, but he quickly tugged the shirt down and met mocking golden green eyes.

* * *

Every time he tried to get his mind off Dean, he'd think back on the kiss. It hadn't been a very good one and really, he'd been the only one doing the kissing. But when he thought about it, he could still taste Dean on his tongue. Taste his lips, smell his scent, even when he was up in his room or in his car driving. This strong urge to do something was building inside him. This need had been there before... but the kiss seemed to have intensified it... or maybe it was just time. Time spent in the guy's company, and for the life of him, Sam couldn't seem to stay away.

He constantly needed just one more time looking into those jade green eyes, of gazing at those high cheekbones, the freckles that ran across the bridge of his nose. Another glimpse of his strong muscled body, something, anything ... and Sam was back to drink in more ... like he had to feed an addiction.

Funny thing was, there were times, times when Dean wasn't even aware of it himself, that Sam could swear he saw the same things reflected back at him in Dean's eyes... but then, maybe it was just what he had wanted to see.

Yeah, that's probably all it was....

* * *

Dean stared at the mush in the bowl in front of him. He'd tasted it, thought to himself he'd eat it no matter what. But he couldn't even tell what it was, and it had these hard crusty lumps that looked like burnt roaches. And yeah, dad had taught him you eat everything when necessary ,but right now... he just couldn't. He kicked the tray away with his good foot, and leaned his head back against the wall.

Sam opened the door to the basement a large bag swung from one hand, a tall plastic cup, complete with a straw in the other as he walked down the stairs, forcing the wide grin off his face. He knew who had cooked Dean's dinner, if you could call it that, tonight. Rosalie.

He had given her a cookbook and told her to go wild. There was no tellin' what the hell she had come up with, but there wasn't a doubt in his mind that it had been disgusting.

Stepping off the last step, Sam walked over to the area he had come to call his own, directly across from the cage where he had a good view of Dean, but they were far enough away from one another that his scent didn't tempt Sam... too much. Sitting down Indian style on the floor and started to unload the food, popping open the lid of the Styrofoam container and letting the scents of the food fill the basement. He reached into the bag again and unwrapped bread that was wrapped in tin foil, garlic bread. Setting it all out in front of him, Sam reached for the plastic silverware inside the bag, then glanced up at Dean as if seeing him for the first time. "So, how was _your_ dinner?"

Even before Sam started unpacking the food, Dean knew exactly what it was... Italian. Spaghetti or pasta anyway, with tomato sauce... meat balls. "Oh God, garlic bread?" He couldn't even formulate a joke about vampires and garlic, not when hunger was burning a hole in his stomach. His stomach growled so loud, it sounded like there was a damned animal living inside him. His eyes fixed on the cup, then moved back to the food. "You... you gonna eat that? All of it?" Dean asked, starting to crawl over to the edge of the cage, his hand going around the bar.

Sam looked from Dean down to the food and back, "Why? Did you want some of this?" he quirked a brow. "Didn't you like your meal?" he asked feigning innocence and biting his cheek to hold back a laugh.

"I don't know if you could find a dog who would eat it," Dean answered truthfully, licking his lips. He took another deep sniff and could almost imagine the taste of parmesan and tomato sauce on the garlic bread. "Can I have some?" He met Sam's eyes. "Just a little. It could still qualify as 'half starving' me." If that was what they were trying to do. All he knew was the aroma had sharpened his hunger to pain.

Sam slowly shook his head, "No," he said simply, and paused, his hazel/gold eyes searching Dean's face, "you can't have _some_ , you can have it _all_." He pressed his lips together and when he spoke again his voice had deepened, became huskier, more darkly seductive, "but... what are you willing to give me for it?"

Dean's heart fell at the initial refusal, and he knew he would have begged. But Sam made his usual demand for an exchange, and suddenly Dean could hardly breathe. His knuckles whitened on the bars, the change in the vampire's voice registering in parts of his body that shouldn't be taking notice. He stayed quiet for a moment, trying to fight, but relenting eventually. "Kiss. I'll give you another kiss." Putting his face against the bars, he raised his chin so his mouth was accessible. Like the bars could keep them nice and separate, and only their mouths would touch.

Sam's lips curved into a slight smile as he shook his head. "I think this wonderful spread I have here," he waved his hand out to encompass all the food he had sitting in front of him, "is worth a lot more than some _Grandma kiss_." He gave Dean a pointed look, "don't you?" he shrugged a shoulder, and reached for the bag with a sigh, "I mean, if not, I can always give this to the dogs next door."

"No don't!" His lips parted. "Okay... okay... I'll kiss you. It won't be like that, I swear." His other hand wrapped around the bars as he pleaded. "Please, I'm starving." Looking into Sam's eyes, he saw an all different hunger. One that made him nervous, just like everything else about Sam seemed to... keeping him on edge sorta, but not bad enough for him to want to be left alone either.

Sam quirked a brow. "A kiss..." he licked his lips, eying Dean, " _my way_?" golden/hazel orbs returned to and locked onto green, "Deal?"

 _His way_... now why did that worry him so much? Dean nodded. "Deal."

Sam smiled and gathered up the food, re-wrapping the bread and closing the lid on the container before shoving it all back into the bag, then he grabbed up the cup of soda and walked over to the door of the cage, turning slightly to set the food down out of reach of Dean, but where he could reach it as he opened the cage door and knelt there in the opening, hands on his knees. "Come over here," Sam told him, but started to crawl in toward him even before Dean had a chance to move.

He couldn't reposition himself fast enough to do as Sam said, but it became unnecessary. As the vampire crawled toward him, Dean was reminded of a panther... sleek... graceful... dangerous. His heart rate kicked up a notch.

Reaching Dean, Sam crowded his personal space, his face inches from Dean's, his body looming over Dean as he sat on the floor. "My way," Sam reminded him, as he sat back slightly and reached for Dean, his hands running up Dean's sides under the tee, fingertips grazing his skin as they moved up and down slowly, golden/hazel eyes intent on jade green. Sam bit his lip. "Why are you nervous?" before Dean could argue, Sam interjected, "your heart's pounding."

A sound escaped Dean's lips as he shuddered under Sam's scorching touch across his skin. "Touching wasn't in the deal." Dean's head tipped back as Sam moved over him. The intensity of that gaze, the question burning inside those eyes... they just wouldn't quit. "Why do you think, Sam?" 

 

There was no answer.

He couldn't take it. Couldn't take the suspense. Couldn't take the waiting, it was sheer torture. Closing the small gap between them, Dean brushed his mouth against Sam's, tentatively at first, telling himself he could do this. He did it again, this time noticing how soft Sam's lips were. Something he'd never have expected in a man. "Okay... open," he said, sliding his tongue out of his mouth and pressing it against the seam of Sam's lips.

Sam pulled his hands away from Dean's sides to wrapped around his upper body, one hand cupping the back of his head, fingers tangling in the short strands, the other, pressed to the center of Dean's back, pressing him closer to Sam's own body as Sam thrust his tongue past Dean's and into Dean's mouth, mapping it out, brushing against his teeth, the roof of his mouth, tangling it with Dean's tongue, before sucking Dean's tongue back into his mouth.

An involuntary groan tore from the back of Dean's throat as his tongue was pushed aside and Sam took control of the kiss. He was being held tightly, pulled upright against Sam so there was no space between them and no way to ignore hard muscles pressing against him, masculine, aggressive, and yet at the same time gentle.

Changing angles, Sam started to thrust his tongue in and out of Dean's mouth, his hand on Dean's back grasping, fingertips digging into his flesh as Sam's teeth ached, the blood in his temples pounding as the sound of Dean's blood rushing through his veins filled his ears.

Once Dean got used to it, forgot about where they were and why he was doing this, he placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and found himself chasing his tongue. In and out, they wove around each other, their movements sending warmth shooting low into Dean's belly. He ignored the warning in his head, moaning lightly as he lifted his chin to give Sam better access.

All at once, Sam pulled away and was outside the cage, the door slamming closed, one hand against the metal as Sam gripped one of the bars, his head hanging, tongue slowly running over his bottom lip. "I'm... sorry," he mumbled out, "I should... go." He reached for the food, grabbing the bag and handing it to Dean through the bars along with the soda.

Dean used the pad of his thumb to wipe the moisture off his mouth while staring dumbfound at the vampire. He was in such shock at the abrupt change that he almost forgot the food. Almost. Trying to get a hold of his own unchecked and confusing emotions, he woodenly reached for the bag. _What are you apologizing for? The kiss? For making me pay for food? For what?_

"Hand me," Sam cleared his throat, keeping his head bowed, still refusing to look at Dean, "hand me the old blanket, I'll get you another one if you need it." He reached a hand out, waiting for Dean to give him the blanket.

Dean looked over at the now three blankets in the cell, then back. He thought he could use it to make a mattress and the others would be covers. "Why? It's not dirty. It didn't get wet."

Sam raised his head, inky black hunger-filled eyes boring into Dean's, his lip curled revealing elogated fangs, "Either hand it here or _you_ be the blanket!" Sam bit out between clenched teeth.

"What?" His heart jumped, this time in fear. He quickly grabbed the blanket and tossed it at the vampire, who caught and pulled it through the bars. What the hell... what had he done? Dean closed his arms around the bag of food, afraid Sam would ask for that next.

Sam was up and out the basement door in the blink of an eye, the door slamming closed long after he was gone.

* * *

Upstairs in his room, Sam collapsed onto his lounge, throwing an arm over his eyes, a groan breaking from his throat as he pulled the blanket up to his nose and inhaled Dean's scent. Did the human have any idea how close he had been to taking what he wanted from him, their little games be damned? Not likely, or he wouldn't have asked such a stupid question about the blanket, but would have thrown it at him in fear.

Pulling his arm away from his face, his eyes closed as he thought about kissing Dean, about his soft lips and the way he tasted, Sam let his hand travel slowly down his body to his groin as he squeezed his throbbing erection through his jeans, a low groan sounding deep in his throat.

What if he hadn't pulled back? What if he had kept going? Had pushed Dean down onto the basement floor, slipping his hand up his shirt as his tongue fucked his mouth, his hard cock pressing against Dean's hip through his jeans and the fabric of the sweat pants, _his_ sweatpants on Dean?

The 'what ifs' piled up, and he started imagining just that scenario.

 _Dean_ took about two minutes of the manhandling, then pulled his lips away. "Nah huh... no touching, that's the deal Sammy. No touching. You didn't buy anything more," he smirked, gripping Sam's wrists and pulling his hand out from under his shirt. "This isn't for you, either." He lifted his hips, letting Sam feel his arousal. "Just aim for the mouth... it's all you're getting."

Sam pulled back, his jaw set as he looked down at Dean, "But, I --" he grit his teeth together and gave a curt nod. "Just the mouth, "fine." he ground out, leaning back down and thrusting his tongue into Dean's mouth, sucking Dean's tongue into his own and not letting go. Moving his head from side to side, he devoured Dean's lips his tongue, their teeth knocking, scraping, Sam not letting Dean come up for air, reaching out and grabbing Dean's wrists, pinning them at his sides when he would have shoved him away.

Dean was being kissed senseless. When he'd said just the mouth, he'd meant to use that as a way of controlling this... this heat between them, and maybe as a dig. Then scorching heat danced through his body as Sam's brutal kiss excited him in ways he couldn't imagine. He tried to pull away, just to draw in a breath, and found he couldn't. He kissed Sam back one more time, his tongue curling around the vampire's, but then he _really_ needed to break it off.

He wanted only mouths to touch, then only mouths would, that included Dean not touching him to shove him away. He didn't need to breathe, it wasn't his problem if Dean did.

Dean started to struggle, to try to pull his arms away from his side. He made a moaning sound, trying to say Sam's name. His chest burned with the need for oxygen. God how could the rest of his body be burning for something else when his life was possibly in danger here? "Hmm...ummm," he moved his head from side to side, and tried to push up... panic slowly rising with the rate of his heart beats.

Sam continued to kiss him for a few more moments before he tore his lips away, looking down at him with jet black eyes. "Just mouths," he repeated, a slow menacing grin spreading across his lips.

Gasping for air, Dean shot him a dirty look. "Killing me wasn't in the deal..." another couple draws of breaths. "... either. Damn you." He licked his lips and finally managed to pull his wrists free. Looking back up, he swallowed hard at the hunger he saw in Sam's eyes. There was no question there... if he'd seen one, he'd imagined it. There was only a hunger that wouldn't be denied... he realized that now.

"Go slow." When Sam's eyes darkened, he put his hand behind Sam's back, pulling him bodily down. "Let me breathe. Take what you want."

Sam nodded as he lay down slowly, gently over the human, pushing him back to the floor. Dipping his head he kissed a trail down Dean's jaw to his neck, and stifled a groan as the sound of his blood rushing just under the surface grew louder, he could feel it under his tongue, his lips. Hands reaching down, Sam slowly slid them back up Dean's sides, pushing the tee up with them, as Sam's coal black eyes locked with Dean's. "Take this off," he told him softly, continuing to push the shirt up, then pulling it up and over Dean's head, tossing it away.

This time, Dean instantly moved to obey. His head was still swimming from the feelings emanating from all the places Sam's mouth touched. He shivered slightly, lifting his head and expecting a kiss, but Sam kept his distance. That should worry him. It did worry him, some. His stomach muscles tightened as he held his breath.

Sam's arousal pressed against Dean's hip as he reached down again, sliding his hand slowly under the waistband of the sweats, then the boxers, fingers encircling Dean's shaft. Leaning his head down, Sam slanted his mouth over Dean's kissing him hard as his hand began to move, pumping Dean's cock in his pants, Sam's hips grinding his own erection against Dean's hip, a low groaned growl tearing from Sam's throat.

The shock of having Sam's thick hardness pressing into him was quickly followed by another. Dean could only stare, half wanting to say 'stop' and half needing... needing to see what came next. At the first touch of Sam's hand low on his belly, he arched and moaned, cursing himself for his weakness. He was growing hard, and once Sam's fingers wrapped around him, he almost bolted up at the jolt of electricity that went through him.

Dean broke the kiss and looked down the length of his body, where Sam was only half on top of him. The sight of his sweats moving up and down with Sam's hand motions, and the way Sam was humping him was hypnotic. Dean felt like he was in the grips of something... like he understood for a moment what Sam's obsession must be like. Groaning, he lifted his hips, and threw an arm around Sam's back, dragging his hand down over his ass, and pushing him down, helping him fuck against him. "More... oh God... more," he pleaded, this time his fingers dug into Sam's firm ass. "Kiss me," he demanded.

Sam followed Dean's gaze, looking down at Dean's body, at his hand moving under the fabric of his sweats and he slowly raised his head, his eyes, to meet Dean's once more, waiting for him to look up. When Dean groaned and threw an arms around him, Sam bit his lip, eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he began thrusting against Dean, dipping his head, his tongue plunging into Dean's mouth, fucking in and out, hard and fast, like his hips were moving against Dean.

Sam pulled away suddenly, kneeling over Dean, as his hands went to the fastenings of his jeans, undoing them and pushing them down, his boxers as well, freeing his aching cock. Reaching for the front of Dean's sweats, Sam yanked, pulling them and his boxers down to Dean's thighs in one easy tug. He removed his own shirt then, tossing it aside and lowered back down, thrusting against Dean, skin to skin, their cocks sliding together.

Dean was just as hungry for this as Sam. He bit his lip as Sam quickly got him free of his clothes, and then landed heavily back down on him. Now there were no barriers between them. No way to pretend limits were set... boundaries. There was no such thing. Only the incredible feel of this vampire moving against him, loving, fucking against him... so focused, so damned focused on him like he was the only thing that counted. Obsession. Dean groaned, arms wrapping tight around Sam, grabbing, fingers digging into flesh, muscle sliding... shifting against each other.

Sam groaned as his neck arched back, eyes closing slowly, lips parted. Opening his eyes, Sam leaned his head down, slanting his mouth over Dean and kissing him hard, in a tongue tangling, lip bruising, teeth knocking, grinding of mouths.

They sped forward like a speeding bullet, nothing stopping them. Dean met each of Sam's thrusts, asking... no... demanding more. He hurt... his mouth would be bruised and swollen, his body too, but it was nothing, nothing compared to the way he was burning up with need. He pushed his tongue past Sam's teeth, avoiding the edges, but playing with fire... welcoming it.

Tearing his mouth away, Sam lowered his head, kissing a path down Dean's jaw and neck, tongue pressing against the artery, fangs scraping. "Oh God, Dean..."

Fuck. His pulse jumped under the press of Sam's tongue... and now he was playing with death, but he didn't care. He hooked both legs around Sam's, lifting up, fucking against him, eyes glazed, skin moist with sweat... feverish. "I don't care... do it... just don't stop... do it... do it, Sam," he plead louder and louder, his motions getting jerky.

Sam groan growled against Dean's neck, breaths panting out as he continued to thrust against the hunter, wanting, needing this, him... Just a taste, just a little taste. Sam scraped his fang along the skin of Dean's neck, lapping at the small amount of blood that came to the surface, the coppery taste on his tongue, the feel of Dean straining for more under him, the desire and need raging through him, had heat coiling low in his belly, his balls drawing up tight. Sam grit his teeth to keep from sinking his fangs deep into Dean's neck and with a loud groan, he went over the edge, his spunk smearing between them.

Sam's breaths panted out, as he rained kisses over Dean's jaw and neck, his cheek bones and eyelids, lastly, slanting his mouth over Dean's, as he continued to move against the hunter.

The searing heat ... pain... it drove Dean over, his shout of pain subsumed by repeated cries of "Sam, Sam... oh God... yeah ... Sam," as he gripped his lover's back, raising himself up higher and higher, grinding himself against Sam's wet cock until every last wave of pleasure subsided, leaving a sense of peace where there had only been the sharp bite of need. He moved his head to the side, letting Sam taste him again, this time with all the time in the world.

Sam opened his eyes to find that part of the blanket was over his face, another part was trapped by his hands between his legs as he lay on his back on the lounge. His jeans were damp from his orgasm, his breathing harsh and ragged and Dean's scent surrounding him. _Oh God.... the daydream._

Moving slowly, Sam pulled the blanket back, eyes darting about his darkened room before he pulled up and off the lounge, walking over to his dresser as he unfastened his jeans.

After quickly taking them and his boxers off, Sam pulled on a pair of sweats and headed down the stairs and to the basement door. Opening it, Sam slowly and quietly made his way down to the now dark basement.

Walking over to the cage, Sam wrapped a hand around the bars, forehead against the cool metal as he gazed at the hunter.

It was weird how soundlessly the vampire entered. It was only the weight of his gaze that made Dean aware of him. He quickly protected the remainder of his food, not that a whole lot was left over.

He looked warily up at the vampire. "So _which_ Sam are you now? Friendly or raving maniac." Yeah, he probably should have kept his mouth shut, but he was still smarting from the abrupt departure and the rough way he'd been spoken to. No he wasn't sensitive, but Goddamit, they'd just kissed, and he'd given Sam what he wanted... it didn't feel right coming hard on the heels of that.

Sam smiled softly and shook his head slowly. "Friendly raving maniac?" he offered, before sighing softly, eyes closing tightly as though he were in pain before he opened them again. He regarded Dean a few more moments. "I said I was sorry about that, I..." he drew in a breath and let it out slow. "Vampire thing," he shook his head. "I kinda saved your life." The corner of his lips quirked upwar., "Instead of bitching, you should be thanking me."

"You saved my life with a blanket. Wow... didn't figure you for a magician." Dean took a bite of the toasted garlic bread even though he was about to burst, then spoke around it. "How about if I give you another blanket... will that get me out of here?"

Sam frowned at him. "No." he pulled back from the bars with a shrug. "Fine, you don't like that I took the blanket, next time I'll _take_ you. I just don't want to hear you saying that I'm some horrible vampire that molested you, I gave you the choice."

"You molested the blank..." he frowned at first, then his eyes widened. Was he kidding? "That is so fucking... dirty, you should send that story to a skin mag." He wasn't kidding either, just the thought, though disconcerting, was at the same time a little bit of a turn on. Nah... he had to be kidding, right? His gaze traveled down Sam's body, and he took in the fact he'd changed out of his jeans. "You're not kidding." He swallowed. "I'm not _that_ special. I know this is a small town but if you get out to Seattle or any big city... lots of guys out there..."

Sam tilted his head. "How old do you think I am, Dean?" he asked before shaking his head. "I've met 'a lot of guys'," he shrugged a shoulder, "and girls," he looked intently at the hunter. "Doesn't mean that I don't want what I want. And just because you don't think you're special," he paced away from the cage, hand trailing over the ceiling above him, "doesn't mean that I don't." He slowly turned back around. "You really think I'm this nice to everyone?"

Dean scrubbed his face with his hand. "I don't know, Sam. You look... 23, maybe 24. I have no idea how long you've been like this, or what you're like. One minute you tell me you don't feed on human, and now you're asking if I think you're this nice to everyone. What... you're not eating me because you... you think you like me?" Dean didn't want to explore his own feelings. Didn't want to even think he was somehow getting sucked into Sam's obsession.

"I don't _drink_ from humans. Never said that looking at them wasn't like watching T-bone steaks walk around," he gave Dean a pointed look. "We drink from deer," he shrugged a shoulder, "but when I," he licked his lips, "when we feel desire, the bloodlust and lust are mingled... I wanted... Well," he nodded turning to pace away again. "I saved you from becoming my nighttime snack. "As for my friendly comment, we don't usually mingle with humans. Sure we want to live among them in peace, but we don't go buying them pillows because they want one. We also don't go to Italian restaurants and tell them we want the most popular thing on the menu, just to make sure that we get _something_ that the human likes." He turned and looked at Dean, "I did both of those things... for you."

Licking his fingers, Dean reached for the bar, using it to pull himself up. He hopped over closer to Sam and looked out at him. "Dinner was good. Thanks." He cocked his head. "But maybe if you stopped charging in kisses, then you wouldn't have to worry about bloodlust and breaking your human-free diet."

Sam clenched his jaw and gave a curt nod. "Fine." he turned on his heels and headed up the stairs without a backward glance.

"Aw for the love of..." There he went again. He'd never met anyone as moody or as frustrating. He'd had a point, and he'd made it. What the hell... if Sam didn't want to hear it, why did he come down to talk, or... whatever.

He sat down again and waited. Sam would be back, and then there would be more drama that Dean understood nothing about. But it would be better than the silence and the boredom.

 

* * *

 

Dean added three more scratches to the wall. Three more days and no one had talked to him. At all. He'd be pulled out of the basement by Ros most of the time. She didn't try to kick him around as much, but she rushed him even when he couldn't walk well and her hands were always rough. A couple minutes in shower to get cleaned up, no towel, and he was thrown back into the hole.

He was going nuts. Then on the third day he saw something on floor of the hall and purposely fell down. Ros' mockery didn't bother him at all, not even when she forced him to get up and almost shoved him down the basement stairs. Sam was gone, she said. She said it was his fault and now he had no protector.

Today.... Dean decided he needed no fucking protector. They hadn't been cuffing him, and even if they had been... it would have changed nothing. Using the paper clip he'd grabbed from the floor, he had the cage door open. Ten minutes later, he'd gotten to the front door. Then everything went dark.

* * *

Sam walked down the basement steps and toward the cage, hand wrapping around the bars as he looked in at the hunter. "Heard you were busy while I was away," he told Dean matter-of-factly as he shook the cage door, knowing Dean hadn't heard him approach. Opening the door, he reached for the chain that was now fastened on one end to one of the cage bars and the other to the cuffs that held Dean's hands securely locked behind his back.

"Come on," Sam gave the chain tug as he turned and started to walk toward the stairs, only allowing about three feet of chain between them.

Resentment bubbled up inside Dean. Resentment at the one vampire who'd made his existence here semi-bearable and then fucking disappeared on him. "Where?" he asked, stopping before he took a step up. "What are you gonna do to me now?" He turned his face around. What new game... what new hell do you have in store for me?"

Sam looked at him, eyes narrowing before his hand shot out, grabbing Dean's jaw and turning his head so Sam could get a better look at the bruised lump on Dean's temple. "I'm gonna rip her fucking head off," he ground out under his breath, then glared at Dean. "I'm gonna take you to my room and hang you from the ceiling like a pinata, I thought I'd beat the blood out of you," he said with a straight face, pausing for a breath of time before he huffed and rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a whiner and come on," he tugged the chain again.

He wanted to tell Sam to go fuck himself. He wanted to turn around and walk back into that cell. But was his pride worth it? The price of giving up a chance for just a little interaction... some time away from this fucking hole? He couldn't even shove Sam away, and that had Dean's jaw going stiff with frustration. He started climbing, not looking back anymore, refusing to believe the anger he'd seen in Sam's eyes against Ros. It was all smoke an mirrors. If he'd given a shit, he wouldn't have left him. Left him _at her mercy_ , he belatedly thought.

When they were in the hall, Dean immediately looked around for the others. If he was going to be a vampire buffet, he was going down fighting. He didn't care if the fight took three seconds.

"And just where do you think you're taking _that_!? Rosalie asked from the doorway to the family room.

Sam took a step back and wrapped an arm protectively around Dean's front as he stepped between Dean and Rosalie, a snarl tearing from his lips.

"Anywhere I want to." Sam answered her stiffly, "Did you do that to his head?"

Rosalie crossed her arms over her chest. "And if I did?"

"Touch him again and I will break you." Sam warned her.

Rosalie took a step forward a snarl tearing from her lips as Sam crouched. Before either could move, Carlisle walked into the hall, "What is going on in here?"

Sam slowly pulled to his full height at the same time as Rosalie.

"Sam wants to fuck the garbage," Rosalie spat out, glaring at Sam though she spoke to Carlisle.

"We will give Sam the same respect for his decision as we give Edward," Carlisle told her sternly.

"But....!" she started.

"We will give Sam the same respect for his decision as we give to Edward." he repeated, eyes slightly narrowed, his tone louder only to the vampires in the room, the change too subtle for a human to detect.

Sam nodded at Carlisle, before wrapping an arm around Dean and turning with him, walking up the stairs to the upper floors.

The way Sam's arm banded around him like iron, and gave him no choice in the direction he wanted to walk, Dean was unsure about whether he should be glad for his 'protection.' "What is she talking about. Who is Edward?" He started to drag as they walked along a hallway that clearly lead to bedrooms.

"Edward is my brother," Sam told him, pulling him along beside him. He looked over at Dean. "Are you afraid of being in my room alone with me?"

"No," he said through clenched teeth. "Should I be?" He looked away before the vampire did, and that pissed him the hell off.

Sam smiled as he looked back down the hall. "Guess it depends on what scares you," he mumbled, but left it at that, as he turned them into the room at the end of the hall and closed the door behind them, locking it.

"This is my room," Sam told him as he let go of Dean and moved to sit in a chair near the door. "What do you think?"

Dean had turned to look at the door Sam locked. A bit of uneasiness crept into his stomach, not that he'd expect help from anyone outside the room. Turning back, he looked around the large, modern room. The most impressive thing about it, even more so than the large flat screen t.v. and other electronic equipment, was the ceiling to floor window. Immediately, he headed to it. Unable to put his bound hands on the glass, he leaned his forehead against it, looking at the trees and the setting sun. "I think you have a great room, Sam," he answered woodenly. "Much nicer than the basement and bathroom."

Sam smiled at him. "What would you give me if I let you sleep here? For a night."

Finally turning to look at the vampire, Dean tried to read his expression. Nothing. He couldn't tell a damned thing about him. Other than he was pretty sure Sam wanted more of that tongue action he'd demanded in exchange for edible food. Dragging his gaze away, he walked to the settee that was almost as wide as a double bed, and sat on its edge. It was firm, but next to the cold basement floor, even with a layer of blanket, it felt like heaven. "Just sleep?" he asked, looking back into hazel eyes that intently followed his every move.

"For the night... yes. But, what are you willing to give me for it? I think this might be a bigger deal than a little Italian food, don't you?" he quirked a brow, watching Dean closely and making sure not to say too much in case he couldn't fulfill his end of the deal.

"A little conversation? I can be funny." He knew Sam wasn't gonna take that, he hadn't before, but he had to try. Dammit, why was Sam's burning gaze so disconcerting? It was making it hard for him to think and thinking under fire had always been his strong point.

Sam didn't answer, only pulled to his feet and walked to the far end of the windows, and unlocked them, sliding the glass back so they could feel the soft breeze blowing into the room and hear the birds chirping outside.

Walking back to the chair, Sam sat back down, his gaze intent on Dean as he licked his lips and quirked a brow. "Want to try again?"

The feel of wind on his face for the first time in a long time, and the fresh scent of rain and leaves contrasting sharply with the stuffy, cold of the basement had Dean wanting to stay in the room more than anything. There was also the chance that Sam might uncuff him. An opportunity could arise to get out that window... something. "Okay." He licked his lips, "what... what do you want?" He swallowed hard at the look in Sam's eyes and shook his head 'no.' "What else?"

"What are you willing to give up, Dean?" Sam asked him, one hand slid from the arm of the couch to rest on his thigh near his groin. "To get something this nice one has to give _up_ something equally nice," Sam said, voice husky and soft. "So you tell me, what is staying here, in my," he glanced at the lounge, "bed, worth to you over going back down stairs to that cold hard floor?"

"The hell... I don't know, why don't you just fucking tell me and I'll think about it," Dean snapped. As if he was used to this. As if he could guess what was in Sam's mind. As if he wanted to give even a little more than Sam's bottom line. Why all the fucking mystery?

(A/N: apologies for coding errors)


	3. Chapter 3

The silence was unnerving, almost threatening. Dean's stomach muscle's went tight. His breaths were a bit shallower than usual as he tried to come up with an answer. "I'll give you my shirt... It's... it's better than a blanket," he finally said, trying not to think of why Sam had wanted his blanket. "I'll stay without a shirt." With each thing he gave up, he tried to see whether it was enough. The grim look on Sam's face told him otherwis.. "You can touch me," he finally whispered, "without the shirt."

Sam quirked a brow, "I can touch you," he licked his lips and leaned in the chair, his elbow on the arm. "Without the shirt on? And...?" Sam crossed his long legs at the ankles out in front of him. "How about _and_ you will touch me... where I say." His brow quirked as he tilted his head to the side, his gaze intent on the hunter.

It could have been worse, or so Dean told himself as he nodded. "But _your_ clothes stay on." Goddamn it, at least give me that.

Sam's lips curved into what could pass as a smile. "Done," he told him with a nod. Of course, while Dean had said that his clothes would stay on, he hadn't specified _what_ clothes. Boxers and a tee were fine with Sam. It was less clothes than he figured he would willingly get Dean down to.

Sam held out his hand. "Let me take the sweater now."

Pushing off the settee, Dean walked over and gave him his back, raising his cuffed wrists. He couldn't wait to get the damned bracelets off. He felt Sam move behind him, and held his breath.

 

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and leaned his head down near his ear, "You know, I could just..." he nuzzled against Dean's ear, his nose skimming around the outer shell, "cut the sweater off of you. Leave the cuffs on and cut the tee shirt away tpp." Sam drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes and clenching his teeth at the ache in his fangs.

Feeling the iron grip close around him again, Dean felt his heart stutter. Sam's breath skimmed his cheek, his suggestion... it made Dean all sorts of tense. "I'd rather you didn't. I'll need them... both of them, later," he answered. "And I can't touch you with my hands tied like this." Carrot... give the vampire a carrot. Make him see it's to his benefit. He turned his head slightly, caught an eyeful of Sam's fangs. God... was he crazy doing all this for a bed? No, it wasn't the bed, it was the opportunity for more. For freedom. He cocked his head. "Makes sense, right?"

Sam didn't answer, only sat back down in the chair and unfastened the cuffs, but as soon as they were off, Sam's legs closed around Dean as he leaned back. "Don't move. Just... stand right there," he said, sliding his hand to his groin, cupping himself, as he bit his lip, his eyes intent on the human before him, golden/hazel eyes darkened to inky black.

"Just stand?" Dean's gaze fell to the powerful thighs clamped around the sides of his legs and waited. Any moment now he expected Sam to start taking his clothes off, or to demand he take his top off himself. But there was nothing but silence. Silence and a slight movement, but he couldn't tell what Sam was doing. Bringing his now free arms in front of him, Dean brought his elbows together for a moment raised his arms, stretching his back muscles, then dropping them down. His one hand landed on Sam's thigh and he pulled it away quickly. God he wished there was a mirror.

He turned his head to the side and caught Sam's reflection in the window. "Holy..." his breath came out in a rush as he realized Sam was touching himself. If Sam's legs hadn't been pressed so tight around him, he might have staggered forward.

Sam knew Dean had seem him in the window, knew that he had seen that he was cupping himself, squeezing. "Turn around, Dean." Sam told him, his voice dark and husky, "why watch in the window, when you can just turn around?" He squeezed, thrust his hips slightly into his hand and bit his lip. "Turn for me."

"Do I have a choice?" Dean asked, his voice low and meek.

Sam bit back a moan, "You can either turn, or you can take off all of your clothes and give them to me now."

The instant Sam's legs loosened around him, Dean turned. He tried not to look at Sam, but it was impossible. Even with his eyes glued on Sam's face, he couldn't help but see the vampire's long fingers moving over the bulge in his pants, squeezing and moving again. His own heart rate went up, Goddamit. He swallowed, tried not to notice the slight flush stealing over alabaster skin. Tried not to feel like a false move could end up with him under Sam. "There... there's got to be a lot of guy's who'd... you know, do it with you. Why ... why this?" Maybe talking would distract Sam, refocus him on something other than himself.

Sam shook his head, rubbed the heel of his hand along the thick line in his jeans, "Never wanted anyone else like this. Just you," his eyes darkened a shade, if there were possible. The pupils swallowed up in the deep abyss of blackness circling them. "Your scent," Sam took in a deep breath and squeezed his crotch, bit his lip, "the way you look, something about it, about you," his hips moved just slightly, pushing his groin into his hand, Sam bit back a loud groan, "your eyes," Sam let out a breath as he ran his other hand over his own tee clad chest, "the way you move," his lips parted as he gasped softly, thrusting into his hand, "your expressions," Sam managed a slight smile, but it quickly turned predatory, "I want to see what you look like when you cum."

Okay, maybe asking had been a bad idea. Every word, that came out of Sam sent a new shard of worry through Dean. It showed just how obsessed the vampire had become of him. His scent... right there... danger, didn't even have to be a hunter to know smelling good to a vamp was not a _good_ thing. The way he looked and moved? His expressions? How closely had Sam been watching him? The only answer had to be _too closely._ As for wanting to see him cum, Dean instinctively shook his head 'no,' his hands balling at his sides. Not happening. No way, not unless...

The sensations from Sam flexing his thighs around him were distracting, making it hard for him to speak. "Freedom. That... that's the price for my freedom. I'll let you watch," he said, internally cringing and wondering if he could even get it up knowing he was being watched.

Sam shook his head as he continued to thrust into his hand, "Watch?" he gave an evil little grin, nodding, "yeah, I'll be watching alright, but not from where you're thinking." Sam bit his lip, his head falling back. "Step closer, let me smell you better," Sam told him, lips parted, breathing heavier as his head rolled against the wall.

"What?" Now he wasn't making any sense, but the demand that he move closer had Dean jittery enough that he forgot about the threat for the moment. At least he still had his shirts, maybe Sam had forgotten. Maybe once he got off, he'd just let him alone. Licking his lips and holding his breath, he leaned forward, his hands gripping the arms of the chair Sam was sitting in, using it to control the distance between them. He'd leaned far enough that his chest and neck were close to Sam's face, and it now occurred to him that his hips were balanced above Sam's. That a few inches closer and Sam's moving hand might be touching him. His cock twitched. _No!_

Sam gasped in a breath, his teeth aching, blood pounding at his temples and Dean's sweet intoxicating scent right there, right fucking there, like he wanted it. It was so good and so terrible all at once. A low moan tore from his lips as he continued to thrust into his hand, his cock achingly hard inside his jeans. He licked his lips as he looked at Dean, wanted so much to take what he wanted, but he fought not to force it, fought not to just take what he needed, his body and blood. Alice had said that it would happen, the hunter was just being difficult now, but how long was he suppose to wait? How long was he going to resist what was was meant to be?

As he watched the expressions flicker over Sam's face, Dean was in turn fascinated and nervous. He was doing exactly what Sam asked, but he was afraid of what lurked behind those darkening eyes. That they'd be asking him for more than he was willing to give. How would the game end if they arrived at an impasse?

Sam's free hand moved to Dean's side, sliding up under the sweater and tee to find his warm skin and he sighed, eyes closing for a moment before he opened them again and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. "Off," Sam told him, "Take them off, now. Take off the sweater and shirt or you can forget about the deal!" Sam snapped, his hand lowering, gripping a handful of the sweat pants' material. He smiled wickedly, "Don't move away, or I get the pants too."

His stomach muscles flexed and tensed to breaking point under Sam's touch. He started to straighten to obey, then he was tugged back by his sweats. Too close... too close for comfort. Heart slamming against his chest, he tried to balance in that awkward 'L" shaped position over the vampire, shrugging out of the sweater and instinctively knowing to drop it on Sam's chest. The tee shirt was more of a challenge. His fingers brushed against Sam's at his waist, sending a jolt of electric heat through him. Nerves... that's what it was... nerves. He tried to pull the shirt off as fast as he could, not wanting to be blinded for too long, but lost his balance.

A panicked sound broke from his throat, as he reached out and grabbed Sam's shoulder for support, his face practically bumping Sam's.

Sam's hands moved, reaching up to catch Dean, one hand pulling the tee free of his body as the other held onto him. Sam stared into his eyes for a long moment without moving. "Thank you." Sam told him finally, voice soft. Slowly, and against everything his body was telling him to do, Sam let go of him. But then, before Dean had a chance to move, before he could pull away, Sam reached up again, cupping the back of Dean's neck and pulled him down, crushing their lips together. Sam kissed him deep, the kiss bruising, claiming.

Escape slipped from Dean's fingers just like that. The unexpected kiss, rough, hard and too fucking hot to handle, seemed to burn all coherent thought from his mind. Robbed of his will to protest, he allowed Sam to take everything he wanted, moaning involuntarily into his mouth.

Pulling away, Sam licked his lips and gave a slight smile. "I know that you're probably mad that I did that, but I think you would be even more upset had I taken what I really wanted. Just remember that."

Breathing hard, there wasn't a thing Dean could say to that. He straightened and blew out a heated breath. His mouth was wet, his senses were already swimming with the taste of the vampire. He wiped his mouth with the pad of his thumb, striving to hide his reactions. "Are you done with me?" he asked, gruffly. If he didn't pull completely away, he might go mad.

Sam smiled at him, as he reached down to his chest, and picked up one of the shirts, his eyes never leaving Dean's and brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply, his eyes closing briefly before he opened them and again, looked directly into Dean's eyes. "Do you know how badly your scent turns me on?" Sam asked him, biting his lip.

"No," he whispered, his gut clenching. "Is that... normal, for vampires?" He inched back, maybe if he left Sam in his own world...

Sam tilted his head. "Only when it's someone we find that we're attracted to, want to mate with. Have you? Ever..." he grinned, "mated with a vampire?" Of course Sam knew the answer to that, if Dean had he would be with that vampire now and none of this would have happened, _be_ happening. But, it was obvious he was getting to the hunter, could hear the change in his heart beats, the flow of his blood.

"Do you want to know what _I_ would like to do with you?" Sam asked him, his gaze slowly moving over Dean's form as he bit his lip. Sam's eyes darted to the loung. "You can lay down now, by the way. I'll be over in a minute."

That was _not_ comforting. "Over for what?" the words flew from his mouth. Shit. "I'm not tired yet," he turned his back on Sam and walked around the room, nervous, wondering what he was doing now, but afraid to look. Instead, he kept his eyes on the things that belonged to him. Music collection... Computer. His finger ran over the keyboard. Internet.

The silence grew, and wasn't comfortable. Dean realized Sam was waiting for an answer. He looked over his shoulder. "I think I have an idea now, yeah." There was no fucking reason to put it to words though.

Sam smiled slightly, "Tell me." he whispered as his hand went back to his crotch and he lifted the shirt to his nose, his eyes intently focused on Dean.

"What? No." Dean dragged his gaze away. "What you're asking... this, it's not normal. You don't ask guys shit like that with your hand down your pants. Just... don't." He pressed his lips together and met Sam's eyes again. Maybe he'd be reasonable. Maybe.

"Why? Are you..." he pulled the sweater away from his face, "scared?"

Was his heart racing? Hell yeah. His ears burned, his body so tense, his muscles ached. Was it fear. Was it _only_ fear? Dean shook his head. "To tell you I know what you want? What you get off on? You're showing me. You want me naked and under you. You want to fuck me," he said through gritted teeth. "You want to see me come." There - he'd spit it all out. "Well none of that's happening, so don't hold your fucking breath, got that?"

Sam replaced the sweater under his nose as his hand moved on his groin. "Did I ask you?" there was a double meaning there and he was going to let the hunter pick his own belief as to which way he had meant it, or both.

Dean frowned. Yeah Sam hadn't asked whether or not 'it was happening,' but was that what he meant, or did he mean he would take what he wanted without asking? He didn't like the fluttering in his stomach, because that usually meant nothing good. Leaning against Sam's desk, still looking back and trying to figure it out, to ease his own mind, he spoke out loud. "You're not doing anything that's not part of our deal... or why make the deal?"

Watching Sam getting off on his scent, sniffing his sweater and squeezing and touching himself had Dean's breath hitching. _Come already. Get it over with, Goddamit_

Sam shook his head, "I made a deal with you, I will do nothing more than you offered tonight." He nodded, stifling a moan, "Just like we said." He closed his eyes leaning his head back against the wall. "I like to think about how it would be... touching you... I think I have a pretty good idea." Sam opened his eyes, lowering his head to look at Dean, "I'm," he licked his lips, "looking forward to touching you tonight."

Dean felt a light sheen of sweat cover his forehead and wiped at it. He was practically squirming watching Sam, but having a hard time looking away. It was one thing to know someone was thinking of you, another to watch someone wacking off and telling you point blank that he was thinking about, that you were his porn material. The look in Sam's eyes as he told him he was going to _touch him_ tonight made him edgier, even if he'd already known that was in store.

"Do you like music?" Sam asked him suddenly. His eyes going to the shelf of music of every kind that took up one entire wall, before sliding back to Dean. "If I gave you a MP3 player, full of music and earbuds, so that you have something to listen to... something to do... would you do something for me? Please? I need you to."

"Give it to me... for," he looked down, "for when I'm back in the basement." He thought on it, knowing the price could be too high. He still hadn't figured out Sam's rules... everyone had them, everyone. He really should just say 'no.' But the last few days had been torture. No input. Nothing to do, but sit there, or lay on the hard floor, listening for sounds until he thought he might go mad. He looked up. "Maybe. And not if my hands are behind my back... how would I control the player?" And maybe another opportunity for freedom... A good poker player, Dean managed to keep his face impassive.

Sam eyed him, "I can take care of that." He bit his lip as he unzipped his jeans and slipped his hand down into them, under his boxers, and started to stroke his leaking erection as his teeth ached, blood pounded in his temples. "Your answer?"

"I don't even know what you want for it. What do you _need_?" he asked, warily, more heat creeping up his neck and cheeks as Sam clearly got closer and his hand moved under his clothes. "Ah..." getting up, Dean looked out the window. This was something you did privately not... and yet he couldn't get away from the reflection in the window. "When you're done, you can tell me."

Sam shook his head, "No, I need this so I can finish." He drew in a breath, panting, a low moan sounding deep in his throat. "Pull your pants down," Sam told him, "just a little." He licked his lip, his eyes glued to Dean's ass, "Like, low on your hips and then hold still so I can look at you. That's all I want. That's it. Do it and you can have the goddamn music!" he nearly growled.

"What!" Dean twisted around, both at the sudden rise in Sam's voice and because he thought he had to be kidding. One look at Sam's face, and he knew he wasn't. Okay, this was the weirdest request yet. Pants low on his hips... for music. Not a huge deal, right? It was just like showing off a plumber's butt. That's what he told himself as he turned around again to look out the window and inched the cotton sweats down his hips. He could fucking feel Sam's eyes on his ass, imagine what he was thinking. The instant he took a look at the reflection of Sam really going at it now, he felt his own cock harden, and his breaths quicken, and swore lightly under his breath.

Sam slid down in the chair as soon as Dean started to pull the sweats down just a little bit. He hadn't spoken, nor had the look on his face changed when Dean asked the question of him. Dean knew what he had said, knew what he wanted. As far as Sam was concerned, it didn't need or deserve an answer.

As more of Dean's hips and his ass were revealed, Sam shoved his own pants down more, almost to his thighs, taking his aching cock in hand and started to pump, thrusting his hips upward, shoving his cock harder into his fisted hand, Dean's sweater draped over the lower part of his face so he could breathe in his scent with each panted breath.

Sam's eyes rolled, as he pumped himself, taking in Dean's scent. "Oh God..." he hissed in a breath, made himself look at what he had traded for, Dean's hips, his ass. Sam drew in another breath, "turn around, let me see the front of you." he told him, voice soft, like a lovers. "God, Dean, it would be so good, I know it would, he bit his lip, arched his back, his hips thrusting his hard cock faster.

THAT hadn't been part of the deal, but as if tranced, Dean slowly turned, his hand gripping the frame of the window, knuckles whitening as he watched Sam. He felt the vampire's eyes slided down his chest, to his lower abs. Slightly lower. Oh God, he wanted to look away, to turn away. He was afraid of what Sam would see. How much of himself had he revealed. Could he even miss the fact that he'd gotten hard? It wasn't for Sam or because of him, Goddamit. It was... just sex in general. Like watching a porn flick. Seeing an actor go out of his mind over the object of his obsession... that's all it was, that's it. Dean tried to control his breaths, tried to make them inaudible, but the harder he tried, the more difficult it was.

Sam licked his lips before they parted, breaths panting out as he reached down with his free hand to cup his balls and squeeze. "Fuck..." the word was torn from his throat, eyes full of heat and desire, passion and hunger, were mere slits as he gazed at Dean, looking him over, each place his eyes roamed like a touch, a caress. "Would make it so good for you, would mark you and make you mine forever." Sam told him softly, just before he threw his head back, muscles straining as his balls drew up, lips parted a groaned growl tearing from his throat as the first spurt of his spunk shot from his cock.

 _Mine forever._ The words wrapped themselves around Dean, like a thick cloak, practically squeezing the air out of him. How could Sam say that... as he came... like that? How could he think and make up stuff? Swallowing as ropes of cum spurted from Sam's cock and feeling like he was still the center or the vampire's world, he took a step back, flattening against the window. After Sam was done, Dean slumped against the wall, exhausted, as if he'd been the one to jack off. "And what would you do once you got tired of me?" he had to ask. Maybe this was the only reason they were keeping him alive. Maybe it was until Sam got tired of his plaything.

Sam's head rolled toward Dean as he opened his eyes a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Drink you dry of course," he chuckled and shook his head, "I could never get tired of you. Why would you think that?"

The words sent a shiver clear to dean's bare feet. He walked to the shelf of CDs, avoiding Sam's gaze as he pulled out music selections. "How do you figure? You see some guy. You think he's hot. You play around with him for a few days, jack off to him... that's not forever. That's just being obsessed with a person, and then the obsession dies." Bad wording, Goddammit. "And you find out that person is just like every other sonovabitch on the street. Nothing special."

Sam didn't answer as he pulled off his shirt and wiped his hand with it, tucked his now flaccid cock back into his jeans and refastened them. He pulled from the chair to walk up behind Dean, wrapping his arms around him and slowly running his hands up and down Dean's stomach and chest as he tucked his face against his neck. "Because I know. Vampire's know who they're supposed to..." he took a breath and let it out slow, "you smell so good."

Dean stiffened. Time to pay. Nervous, he stood stock still, hardly daring to breath as that hand that had just been stroking Sam's cock, now swept over him, leaving hot trails along his skin. "Not comforting, coming from a vampire," he said, turning slightly to find Sam's mouth inches away. He already knew what that mouth could do, that's why his own was tingling. "This is so fucking dirty Sam. Like we're stuck in some porn producer's movie, or something."

Sam smiled against his neck, "Dirty? How is it dirty? We could make a movie, I have a camera." He chuckled and ran his tongue over the skin of Dean's neck moaning softly, "Did I ever tell you vampires don't need down time? I could go again, if you were interested."

Closing his eyes, Dean tried not to enjoy the things Sam was doing to him. God, why didn't he have control over his body, his reactions? Dammit. "I figured it out," he ground out, angry at himself now. "I get why you keep leaving me down there alone, and then... this, being nice... touching. Its psychological ... trying to make me want to be touched. Well it's not gonna work." Dear God... he could only pray.

Sam smiled against his neck, slowly kissing a path up to his ear. "Is that what I'm doing?" he asked, as his tongue darted out to lick around the shell. Sam ran his hands up Dean's chest, stopping so he could rub his thumbs over his nipples until they hardened. He pulled back his head then and switched to the other side of Dean's neck, licking a trail up that side to his ear. "So then touch yourself while you're down there, touch yourself and then you won't crave touch when you're up here." Sam suggested, smiling against the skin of his neck as he lighting tugged on each nipple.

He was burning up. Burning up under the touch of some guy, and it pissed him the hell off. Without thought, he suddenly gripped Sam's wrists, pulled them apart and turned around to face him. "You should... you really need to start transferring my music," he said licking his lips. "You have a lot that I want. It could take all night."

Sam quirked a brow, "I have a house full of vampires who never sleep. Find what you want and I'll get one of them to load it for you." He shook his head, "don't think to deny me MY part of this deal, Dean. What's to stop me from taking it anyway? You?"

The last of his words put sent a tremor of trepidation through Dean. He knew Sam was serious. "I'm not. Not stopping you," he said, eyes meeting Sam's. "You just... you just finished. A little down time..." Blowing out a breath, he added. "How am I supposed to concentrate on picking music if you're ... doing this?"

Sam shrugged a shoulder. "And this is my problem, how? I thought that I didn't effect you?" he smiled, "Or was that just your way of being..." he tilted his head, "shy? Playing hard to get?" he shook his head. "Not a good game to play with a vampire who wants you this badly." his eyes narrowed, "believe me."

"I'm not playing anything with you, Sam. I'm your fucking prisoner, that's why I'm here... that's the _only_ reason, you got that?" He pulled away, increasing the distance between them. "Don't try to 'pretty this up' to make it something it's not...this isn't pretty... it's ugly and it's out of my control, alright?" He gave him a pointed look and moved away, eyes studiously on the CDs, though his heart was ramming against his chest. This isn't that bitch Rosalie, he reminded himself. Sam was... he might be weird, but he wasn't cruel like her. There was a chance he didn't have it in him to strike out for something like this.

In a flash, faster than the human eye could have tracked him, Sam was in Dean's face, his body pressing him back against the wall, hands flat against the wall near Dean's head, Sam used his body to hold him there as he dipped his head, mouth near his ear. "It doesn't have to be ugly," he told him, breath ghosting over sensitive flesh. Sam ground his hips against Dean's. "And you aren't _my_ prisoner, you're my family's. The only thing that binds you to me is how I feel about you," he lifted his head, dark golden hazel intent on green, "how you feel about me," he told him evenly, his tone not leaving room for Dean to deny it.

Words and feelings assaulted Dean just as surely as Sam did, using the strength of his body as weapon, trapping him against the wall. Everything was in conflict, confusing. He wasn't a prisoner of Sam's... how they felt about each other... half truths, situations created by them, this wasn't real... it was surreal. But tossing it all in Sam's face did no good. Hardly moving, he was tense and waiting for whatever punishment Sam decided to mete out.

Just as abruptly, Sam moved away, and took a seat on the edge of the lounge. "And who said anything about control? That's the one thing _you_ don't need to worry about. That's only for me to worry about."

Dean let out a breath. "So I'm your 'guest'" He snorted, then glanced at Sam. He wondered what would happen if he pulled his pants back up. His hand strayed to his waistband. So far nothing had made Sam go ballistic on him. There were threats. There were shows of strength. But he'd been nothing but gentle. Dean needed to know how far he could go... to test him. See if Sam could be his ticket out of here, out of this.

Pulling the pants up, he looked rebelliously back at Sam, chin rising.

Sam laid back on the lounge as he watched Dean, quirking a brow. "I'll just pull them back down myself later," he shrugged his shoulder and nodded toward the CD's, "hurry up and find what you want. You have half an hour." He rolled onto his side to watch him, propping his head up in his hand, elbow bent. "Once the half hour is up, whether you are finished or not, I get what I was promised."

Half hour. Just touching. He could deal with that. "For how long," he asked, almost casually as he went back to selecting. He'd checked the clock though, and he knew Sam had seen that.

He quickly added to the big stack of CD's he'd selected and put them on Sam's desk, and placed the ipod on top. He was very aware that Sam hadn't taken his eyes off him, not for a second. It wasn't looking good for any 'escape' plans. "Can I turn the t.v. on?" he asked. There were at least ten minutes left. And even after, the t.v. could distract him a little.

Sam glanced at the T.V and quirked a brow, "Fine, and in ten minutes, we turn on a porno instead." he smiled slowly, his gaze raking over Dean. "As for how long, since it was never determined in the deal, I figure it gives me rights to however long I want," he shrugged a shoulder, "since you never said."

Arguing with him wasn't going to get Dean anywhere. Grabbing the remote, he went to sit down on the chair Sam had vacated... where he'd so openly masturbated in front of him. "Debby Does Dallas?" He said, trying to sound upbeat and unconcerned. "I'm down with that."

 

Aiming the remote, he turned the t.v. on. Even the sound of a commercial was comforting. It put a small smile on Dean's face as he channel surfed, not looking for anything but a sense of normalcy.

Sam watched him but remained silent, as he turned over onto his back and reached for the fastenings of his jeans and started to undo them, then push them down his hips and off, tossing them onto the floor, so he now lay in nothing but his boxers. "Five minutes."

"Seven," Dean corrected, glancing over. "What are you doing?" He frowned. "You keep your clothes on. That was the deal. Put them back on, Sam." His gaze dropped to the jeans on the ground, then back at Sam.

Sam quirked a brow, "I have clothes on, I'm not naked. You didn't specify _which_ clothes I had to wear," he sighed, "And just because I'm nice, I'll put a tee back on when it's time... because you're _shy_ " he smirked.

"That's cheating." He squeezed the remote, flipping some more. "Put your pants on." He was a helluvalot more worried about that than he was of Sam being shirtless. A glance at the clock showing him time was slipping away too fast.

Sam shook his head. "No. It wasn't in the deal. Sorry," he raised his arms, hands behind his head as he crossed his legs at the ankles, eyes intent on Dean. "Why?" he asked after a moment, "Why does it bother you so much that I'm in my boxers? You think that if I _really_ wanted to take from you a little denim would stand in my way?" he quirked a brow.

He would feel Sam right through those damned boxers, and not so much through jeans, and that bothered him. A lot. "I don't know you well enough to give you an answer to that." He switched channels again, cursing under his breath as a knot started to develop in his stomach. Was this worth it? He could have been downstairs, in the cold, slowly going out of his mind and waiting even for Ros to break up the monotony.

Yeah... if he kept it under control. If Sam kept his deals, or mostly kept them, it would be fine. He'd figure out Sam's buttons, figure out a way to either be unsupervised or... or get him to take him outside. Something... something would give, and Dean would find a way to make a break for it. Maybe not now, maybe not even today, but sometime.

Pulling up, Sam rose from the lounge and walked to his dresser, opening a drawer he pulled out a tee and slipped it over his head. "There, I kept my promise," he muttered, turning to walk back over to the lounge and grabbing a blanket as he went. "I don't usualy use these, I have no need, but for you," he turned his head as he spread out the blanket, "I'll make an exception," he told him with a smile before crawling onto the lounge under the covers.

Glancing at the clock, Sam smirked, "Two minutes and fourty six seconds," he looked back at Dean, "It'll take _you_ that long to muster up the courage to come over here."

Dean let out a deep breath and refused to answer. He was right, anyway. It did take him practically that long to convince himself to let go of the remote, though he did deliberately not bring it with him when he walked slowly to the settee. Eyes locked warily on Sam, he pulled the blanket up and got in. He left as much space as was possible between them, but did turn on his side, facing the vampire.

His heart was out of control. He knew that Sam knew this, that he could hear it. He felt Sam's eyes on the base of his throat, where his pulse beat. The anticipation. The wait, it was almost unbearable. "Let's get it over with."

Sam shook his head slightly. "Not get this over with," he told him softly, "don't think of it like tha," Sam told him as his hand slowly rose to Dean's chest, sliding up and down. "Close your eyes if it helps... for now." Sam told him. "I know you're scared, I can hear your heart." He scooted over closer to the hunter, so close he could feel his body heat. 

Sam dipped his head and kissed Dean's shoulder softly, "Just think about being home, in your own bed, that we're there, and that you asked me over," he whispered, "and now I'm loving you, touching you, caressing you." His had slowly slid around from Dean's chest to his back, to pull him close, running over the length and width of Dean's back a he did.

"You know I'm scared but you still want this." Tense and holding himself stiff, Dean tried to do the opposite of what Sam told him. He didn't want to relax. He didn't want to not be scared. He didn't want to imagine this was voluntary, it fucking wasn't. He wanted to be angry... angrier. He hated that his body was giving him different signals. Betraying him a little at a time. Anyone could do this, Goddamit. If he touched someone, their body would react too. How many girls had he kissed, and touched, and slowly swayed into giving him what he wanted? Sam was doing the same thing.

A small sound broke out of the back of Dean's throat as he was pulled closer and Sam's hands thoroughly explored his back, moving lower. He hadn't shut his eyes before, but he closed them now, afraid of what Sam might see.

Sam rained kisses along his shoulder up to Dean's neck, pressed the flat of his tongue against the artery there for a few moments. His teeth ached so badly, every instinct telling him to pierce the tender flesh and drink. To give himself what he wanted, to give into his craving, his dark desire. The blood pounded in his temples, to the beat of Dean's heart, the rush of blood through his veins. Drawing in a deep breath, Sam let it out slow. "I can hear your blood rushing through your veins, your heart as it beats wildly in your chest. Give in to it, Dean. You know you want this as much as I do." He ground his hips against Dean, his hard cock against his hip. "Let me have you, let me make you writhe under me, I want to hear my name fall from your lips as you come apart under me." Sam whispered, voice soft, husky, seductive, "I'll make you feel so good, I swear it."

He tried desperately to ignore the things Sam's wet tongue was doing to him, the way he was rocking into him, rubbing against Dean's cock, making him feel things he didn't want to. Not with a vampire. Not with his captor. Not with a man, for fuck's sake. Yet everything about Sam, his velvety voice, his graphic suggestions, even his scent were so fucking seductive, he had to fight... fight his own Goddamned body. Heat inched through Dean's veins, scorching him. "Please... no... please, not part of the deal... this isn't..." he barely managed to get out, one arm pressed tightly against his side... as if that gave him any protection. "This is more than touching," he protested, though he couldn't vocalize how.

"Is it?" Sam asked him softly, as he pulled his head back, raising it slightly to run his tongue along the shell of Dean's ear, his hand slipping forward on Dean's body to his chest, thumb grazing his nipple again as he continued to thrust his groin up against Dean's hip.

 _Oh God._ Dean barely held back a moan. He'd never been touched quite like this. Yeah he'd had a lot experience in bed, but no one had made it all about him like this. Or maybe he was just hypersensitive because of the sitch.

Moving his legs slightly, Sam inserted a leg between Dean's, pressing his thigh against Dean's cock rhythmically, matching the thrusts of his hips. "Touch me, Dean. You promised me that. Touch me." Sam whispered, breath fanning over his ear.

Overwhelmed by the heat between his legs, Dean rolled toward Sam, buried his face in his shoulder, pressing his open mouth over it to stifle a groan. Touch him... they were touching all over. Hand shaking slightly, Dean moved it to Sam's hip, gripping it, hoping for one crazy moment to stop Sam's thrusting motions. Seeing it was useless, he slid his palm up Sam's side, slowly, reluctantly... fingers grazing smooth skin, dipping into the ridges and valley's of his chiseled muscles. Intense feelings washed through him. His mouth slipped off Sam's shoulder, and he gasped in a breath. "What are you trying to do to me?"

Sam pulled his head up, inky black eyes intent on green. "Love you," he told him softly before leaning in to place soft kisses at the corners of Dean's lips. "We never said," he kissed him again, "kissing was alright, so I'll skip your mouth unless you ask me for it," Sam told him softly, using his head to make Dean's head tilt up to he could kiss his jaw, his neck, suck gently at the skin at his Adam's apple as his hands continued to move over Dean's body, one around him, pressing against his back, holding, pinning Dean against him, the other at his chest, running over chiseled muscles, down to flat hard abs to the waistband of his sweats, fingertips slipping just under the band, before Sam moved his hand back up again.

Thrusting harder against Dean's hip, Sam ground his thigh between Dean's legs, pressing and releasing to match the movement of his own hips that were moving slightly faster, harder than before. Sam sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, "You smell so good. You make my teeth ache, my cock ache, I want you so much."

It was too much. Too much heat. Too many sensations. Too much need. Too intense. All of it mixed, erupting like a volcano that Dean could not control. He pushed back, thrusting his hips, seeking the heat, needing it. Sliding his hand up to Sam's face, he pulled him up, leaning in and messily melding his mouth to the vampire's. His hand moved to the back of Sam's neck as he tugged, groaning as their tongues tangled. It wasn't enough. He pushed harder, moving on top of Sam, a part of him ready to cry... the other part, way past caring... just wanting to take what he needed, wanting to put out the flames any way he could.

Sam moaned into the kiss, his dead heart aching with emotion as Dean kissed him without his having to pay for it. Had it been able, he was sure his heart would have skipped beats. His hand slid up Dean's back, to cup the back of his neck as he rolled onto his back, Dean ontop of him, his hand that had been on Dean's chest moving down to grip his hips, pulling him in, up against him as he thrust upward, their cocks sliding together through layers of cotton.

"So good, that's it, that's it, baby." Sam encouraged between kisses, that became heated, deeper, frenzied as teeth knocked together, tongues tangled. Sam couldn't get enough of him, wanted more, wanted his body, his blood, wanted it all, but he fought to hold back, to go slower, to coax reactions from Dean, coax the nee and desire from him. Dean wanted this too, he had to, he just didn't know it yet, but Sam would show him, show him it was alright, that it was _right_ , that it could be the best thing he had ever known, if he would just let it be. _They_ were meant to be, and Sam would have him, no matter what it took to teach it to Dean.

Dean countered Sam's 'so goods' with his own "wrong... so wrong, Sams," but that didn't stop him from writhing over Sam, from rocking harder against him, from moving his tongue inside and out of his mouth, and burning... burning for more. He started to touch Sam, exploring his body, his hand moving slowly, reluctantly, learning things about what it felt to touch another male. Suddenly he raised up on his arms, bringing his hips down harder against Sam, heat surging to his already hard cock. He searched Sam's eyes, cocked his head... waiting... watching Sam's face, seeing his nostrils flaring, eyes dark and burning with hunger. He swallowed. His eyelids dropped, trying to hide his eyes from Sam's piercing gaze.

Sam reached up, a groaned growl leaving him as he cupped each side of Dean's face, forcing him to look at him, rolling them, pinning Dean under him as he thrust against him, coal black eyes staring into green. "Want to watch you, see every look of pleasure on your face, Dean. Want to, _Need_ to." he lowered his head, slanting his mouth over Dean's kissing him hard, thrusting his tongue in and out of his mouth.

Oh God, every time Dean tried to regain his senses, Sam made it impossible, by dragging him back into a web of lust so strong, Dean had no idea how to handle it.

Pulling his head back he looked into Dean's eyes again, "That's what I want, what I want to do to your body. I want to bury myself inside you, mark you and make you mine. You _are_ mine, Dean. I know it already, you just need to accept it." He leaned down and kissed him again, sliding his head from side to side, his tongue feeling, mapping out every area of Dean's mouth, pulling back only when he knew he had to, so that Dean could breathe. Looking into Dean's eyes, Sam licked his lips, breathed in deep of his scent, moaned at the ache in his teeth and cock. "Want you now, Dean..."

Alarm bells rang in Dean's head, competing with the need thrumming relentlessly though his system. Sam's words spoke of possession, of ownership, of permanence. And choice. No Goddamit, he wasn't going to be pushed into choosing this. He wasn't choosing anything... other than saving his life and regaining freedom. So what if his mouth burned. So what if he was so hard, he could cry? He wasn't giving in, not to this... not unless...

Eyes glazed with lust, but also hard with determination, Dean grabbed Sam's hips. Very deliberately, he lifted his own, groaning as their cocks slid together. "You want _this_ , then you give me freedom," he just managed to make it sound like a demand. "That's what it'll take Sam. No clothes. Nothing separating us. You want that? Then you say 'yes' to what I want." He wasn't going to let himself be marked, no fucking way. Taken? His heart slammed into his chest. _Maybe._


	4. Chapter 4

Sam closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Dean's forehead. His words hitting his dead heart and his body like a bucket of cold water, bringing him back to reality. To the knowledge that Dean didn't want this, he might have kissed him and touched him, but it was only what he'd bargained for, it wasn't feeling, it wasn't because Dean felt like Sam did. It was only due to a trade.

"Is that what you want?" Sam asked him softly, his lips against Dean''s forehead, "What you _really_ want? Just your freedom?" Sam asked. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled his head back looking down at Dean. "Go to sleep," he told him, voice devoid of emotion, before he rolled off of him and got up. He walked over to the remote and shut off the TV then went to his computer desk and sat down. "Go to sleep, Dean. I won't bother you again tonight," he said, clicking on the computer and turning his attention to it.

His breaths coming out in in loud pants, stunned, Dean watched as Sam left the settee. He could see how hard Sam was, his shorts tenting, clearly showing his cock straining even against the loose material. But his face... it was totally at odds with the cues from his body, and the sounds and words he'd just been whispering.

The same could probably be said for Dean. His body was at odds with what he'd said. His words had been about a deal, an arrangement, but his body ached, his cock was leaking, his skin flushed, his mouth swollen, and his hormones were still raging. He shifted, rolling over to his stomach and almost crying out when his hard dick was trapped between his body and the foam padding. Gripping the edge of the settee, he refused to allow his hand to stray where it wanted, refused to be like Sam.

He tried not to look at the vampire but eventually his gaze shifted to his profile as Sam stared into the monitor. "What are you looking at?" he asked, even though it might be for the best if he didn't draw attention to himself.

Sam closed out of the window he had been staring at and hung his head. "Nothing, Dean. Go to sleep." He slumped down in his chair, raising both hands to his head, holding his bangs back as he closed his eyes in thought.

 _If he's coming from Venice, it's gonna take them a while to get here. At least another week or more. But what if Dean is still resistant? And what if the he has Edwards ability and can read Dean's mind, dammit._ Sam sighed and let his hands fall as his head tilted back, eyes still closed, lips parted.

He was silent for a long time, watching Sam. He wasn't that tired, he'd had days of being alone and doing nothing. Even the slightest input was a pleasure. "I met my end of the bargain," he said eventually, waiting for Sam to look at him. "Why are you pissed I tried to make another one, you do it all the time." Didn't he realize he'd offered everything he could, without losing himself? Or was he really just mad because it would have been business? He kept talking about love... but Sam had himself made these deals, hadn't he?

"Yeah, I do." Sam nodded, not looking at him. _To try to get you to loosen up, to see that we were meant to be, to get you to want me, want to be with me, love me._ "So I'm a hypocritical vampire, so sue me," Sam spat, pulling from the chair, "If you aren't going to sleep, you can go back downstairs until you're ready to. I don't feel like sitting in my room all night."

Dean blanched at the tone and threat. _No big deal, take your fucking bed and I'm outta here._ It's what he should have said, should have spat out just like Sam, instead of nursing a strange hurt. His eyes tracked Sam as the vampire paced like a caged tiger. "Guess all I'm good for is sex, after all," he muttered under his breath. "So much for wanting to to get to know each other."

Sam stopped pacing and looked at Dean, eyes narrowing, "All you're..." Sam stormed over to the lounge and grabbed Dean by the wrist, nearly pulling him out of the bed as he sat him up. "I wouldn't know about that now would I? For some reason the only way you want to have anything to do with me is if you can fuck your way out of here." Sam let go of his wrist with a shove. "Sorry, but I don't pay for it. I'm not going to trade with you to get you to want to have sex with me. I'd rather go without!"

"Fuck," Dean cursed as he was jerked from relaxing on his stomach to a sitting position, like he was some rag doll. Sam had wrenched his shoulder so fucking hard, he might be competing with Ros at finding ways to injure him. And the stuff he spewed, was he out of his mind? He _had_ been paying for sex up till now. Unless he was maybe making the same distinction Dean himself had made...if he didn't go all the way, didn't get fucked, he could deny he'd ever had sex with a man or a vamp.

Sam pulled up from the lounge and walked over to the chair he'd sat in earlier and plopped down. "As far as getting to know you, I know a hell of a lot more about you than you think I do, believe me!" he looked out the window, "And I wouldn't dream of boring you with details about me. Might have to bargain with you to get you to listen," he huffed. "Sorry, but I don't buy that either. I have a family that listens to me because they _want_ to, not because I give them something. I have men and women hit on me every fucking time I walk out that door, Dean! This was not something I wanted to make a deal for." He shook his head, "maybe you don't understand that and maybe you never will," he pulled to his feet walking back over to the computer, "not like you have a hell of a long time to learn," he muttered under his breath.

Dean had wanted to sleep here. To have stuff around him to look at. To be warm. Operative word was _had._ Pressing his lips into a flat line, he got out of the bed and went to pick up his shirts. First he put the tee on, then the sweater. His gaze slipped to the t.v. which he'd hoped to watch some more of, but he walked to the door and stood facing it, almost touching it. "Have _my_ iPod to me tomorrow."

Sam pulled from his chair and walked over to Dean, shaking his head. "No," he told him, slamming Dean back against the wall. "You do NOT get to make a deal and then squelch on it. You wanted to stay here, you stay here, you already _paid_ for it, wouldn't want your letting me touch you to have been a freebie," he snarled. "What's the matter? Am I bothering you? THAT can be fixed." Sam stepped back away from Dean, opened the door and stuck his head out, "Ros! Can you come watch the human!?"

Sam drew his head back in, eyes narrowed, "Now you can sleep in my room and I won't be here to bother you!"

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Dean's back was still pressed against the wall. "You just fucking said you had better things to do than stay in your room. Then you went all Ros on me, what the hell do you want? Know what, I even care." Almost defiantly, he sank down onto the ground, arms resting on top of his knees. "Get her, get anyone you want. Leave me here, send me down. Whatever. Guess I'll be seeing you in three days, right?" It had been Sam's pattern.

Sam sighed and closed the door leaning back against it, he hung his head with a sigh. "I am trying to help you here," he lifted his head and licked his lips. "I know.. things, and I'm trying to make you see them, but it's not like I have all the time in the world, cause I don't. And you're not making it any easier on me." He looked up at the ceiling. "I told you I would take you down earlier because I was mad, I just wanted you to go to sleep so I didn't have to deal with it. But, I didn't expect you to just get dressed and walk to the damn door."

Dean merely glared at him. The guy had serious mood swings and it was killing him. Like he was supposed to read minds or something.

Slowly he looked back at Dean, "Yeah, so right now you hate me and I have a hell of a lot to get done in a short amount of time, so I'm testy alright? I'm sorry." He raised a hand and ran it down his face. "If you want to sleep here where it's warm, you can, it's fine. Hell, if you like it here, you can sleep here every night, it doesn't bother me," he shrugged a shoulder, "except on hunting nights, I can't watch you then."

Sam pulled away from the door and opened it, looking out before he closed it and locked it. "Ros isn't coming, you- you don't have to worry about her," he mumbled, dropping into the chair beside the door, head hanging.

"I don't understand anything you're saying, you know that, right?" It was probably some more of his psychological wearing down of a prisoner bullshit. Still, for some reason, Sam looked... defeated. That was strange.

Pulling up, Dean walked to the table, careful as he passed Sam, and grabbed the remote. "Can I watch? I'm not sleepy"

Sam wearily waved a hand, "Do whatever you want to, I don't care," he muttered, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes.

"Thanks." He moved quickly past Sam, and sat on the settee, eyes glued on the t.v. He kept it low, afraid of setting Sam off, even though the vampire now appeared to be subdued. He wanted to ask him to explain. He really wanted some conversation, he was starved for it. But so far, each time he asked anything, he ended off getting his head bitten off and he'd had enough.

At first, he was tense, always thinking Sam would spring up and they'd have new drama. When that didn't happen, he started to relax and put his arm behind his head. Eventually, his eyes started to close. Probably shouldn't let his guard down, but same as with respect to a lot of things tonight, his body gave him no choice, and he was out.

Sam sat in the chair, just watching Dean, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. Where he had made the mistake that turned the hunter against him instead of making him want to be with him. He didn't make a comment or even move when he saw tht Dean's shirt had ridden up to reveal skin that Sam' hands burned to touch again.

When the hunter's eyes began to slide closed, Sam sat forward in his chair, about to ask him why he didn't just lay back and get under the comforter, but didn't, instead he simply waited until Dean's even breathing told him that the hunter was asleep. Then he walked over to him, repositioning him on the lounge and pulling his sweater off and shirt up over his head, and dropping it on the floor, shushing him when the hunter started to argue sleepily.

Once he had that done, Sam covered him with the comforter, tucking it in around Dean. Sitting on the side of the lounge, Sam stared down at him for a long moment. "I only want to make you love me," he said softly to Dean's sleeping form, as he reached up and ran a hand down his cheek. "And I don't have a lot of time to do it in." He sighed, sitting back on the lounge, his head against the wall.

*

It was a few hours before dawn and Sam had grown tired of watching Dean sleep, had watched as he had twisted and turned, listened to his soft mumbled words and sighs now all through the night. Those sounds, the soft ones that passed through Dean's slightly parted lips had been the vampire's undoing.

While the hunter slept, Sam slowly removed the human's sweats and boxers, stopping several times when the hunter mumbled and seemed to start to awaken. He carefully and gently slipped rope around each of Dean's wrists, and around the legs of the lounge, then moved to do the same with each ankle. Each time Dean seemed to be on the verge of waking, Sam would stop and wait for him to relax into sleep once more. It was one of the things Sam was good at, waiting. 

Sam knelt between Dean's outstretched legs, looking down at him, a small smirk pulling at his lips. Now that Dean was completely bound, Sam crawled up his prone form to his hips, lowering himself down gently and slowly, his gaze on the hunters face.

As he tried to come out of the deep sleep, Dean's body felt like dead weight. It had been so long since he'd gotten more than a couple hours of shut eye at a time, and now, it wasn't just his mind protesting being awakened, but his body too, it seemed. The unhappy sound breaking from him at the disturbance also seemed to help tear down the curtains of sleep. The instant he recalled where he was he tried to sit up, and just like that, his heart slammed into his chest with the realization he was tied up. "Sam!" Or had Ros gotten to him? He tried to blink away the darkness, as his eyes started to adjust to it.

Sam had heard the change in his breathing, his heartrate, and knew Dean was awake, even before his eyes opened. As soon as Dean called his name, Sam reached a hand up, to grasp Dean's shaft as he lowered his head, taking Dean's cock deep into his mouth and humming around his length. _Good Morning, hunter._

Dean's eyes widened with shock. "Uh..." Forming a sentence suddenly became a difficult task, and while he was trying to think on it, his cock was being sucked and licked and all of his blood seemed to be draining from the rest of his body to fill his hardening dick. Sam's golden eyes glittered from between his legs, staring back at him.

Sonova... He tried to push Sam away, but his wrists were bound. He thrashed his legs, but his ankles stayed in place and there was no kicking the vampire. "Stop that... stop it, you sonovabitch," he groaned out as a wave of pleasure hit him. "No... no Goddamit, I didn't ask for this. I don't want it," he took a deep breath, pulling on the bindings again.

Sam smiled around Dean's hardening shaft, pulling his head back and running his tongue around the tip then taking him deep again, sucking hard, and flicking his tongue along his length. His hand pumped Dean's cock slowly as he worked his mouth on him.

"No, no, no," Dean said, his head moving side to side, hating the fact his shouts could just as easily have been 'yes, yes, yes.' Hating the way Sam was looking at him like he knew he was giving him pleasure, hating that smile. He tried to rip himself from the bindings, anger building within him and tears of frustration gathering. "Goddamn you... you have no right. None," he said thickly, his hips raising up as he chased Sam's mouth, despite everything. Why couldn't he control his body... why?

Sam cupped Dean's balls with his free hand, squeezing and massaging softly, rolling them in his fingers as he worked his mouth on his shaft, pulling his head back and licking up his length, tongue circling at the crown, then sucking hard on just the tip, tongue flicking hard against the side as his hand pumped faster, and his other hand squeezed just a bit more.

He was in hell. No he was in heaven but Dean wanted to call it hell. Every nerve in his body screamed for more each time Sam's mouth or tongue retreated. The relief he felt each time Sam touched him again was short lived, and then he was crying out for his touches. First with just his body, struggling against the ropes just to get closer, to demand more friction, and then with the sounds breaking from him between curses. "Sam!"

Pulling his mouth from Dean's cock, Sam lowered his head further, licking at his balls, as his hand continued to pump his shaft. Sam pressed his tongue against his balls and released, pressed hard and released, his hand pumping his cock faster, before Sam pulled his head up. Releasing Dean's cock, Sam lifted Dean's hips, his hands on his ass, taking his dick deep into his mouth, letting it bottom out against the back of his throat and swallowing so he could feel his throat work against the sensitive tip.

Lowering Dean's hips to the bed, Sam used his thumbs to press against Dean's tightly puckered hole as he continued to work his mouth up and down his cock, sucking him and flicking his tongue against his length.

"Oh God, oh God... oh God," feverish with need, Dean writhed in Sam's hands, lifted, played with, sucked off. He forgot where he was... who was touching him... and that he was supposed to hate it. Then it all came to a screeching halt when he felt Sam's thumbs poking his hole. "No... oh hell, no!" he shouted, not caring if every single person in the house heard. "You can't... don't..." his fingers closed around the ropes now cutting into his wrists.

"No... nooo," Dean groaned, his body still taking pleasure in the things Sam was doing to his cock, even as he panicked at the things to come. "Not this... not this, you said you wouldn't touch me... you ... Sam, please... Sam please," he pleaded, fear lacing his voice. "Please Sam, not this."

Sam took his cock deep humming around his length as his thumbs continued to rub and press at his hole, fingertips digging into the cheeks of Dean's ass as he held him. Moving one hand from under Dean, Sam gripped his cock and started pumping him with hard long strokes, his fisted hand chasing after his mouth, one thumb still at his hole, pressing and releasing, the fingers of that hand curled around his balls.

Dean started lifting his hips up as high as he could go, fucking Sam's mouth, trying to find release as quickly as he could. Maybe then Sam would stop, maybe then he could talk, discuss this, maybe. "God... Goddamn you Sammy, God...damn... you." Head tilted back, he moaned as Sam's mouth teased and tortured, making him burn with a need so intense he didn't know how to handle it. "Untie me, please..." he begged, needing more than anything to find release, and wanting this torture to stop, needing to get there now.

Sam didn't listen to Dean's pleas, only continued to work his cock. Moving his hand from under him, Sam used his saliva that had run down to wet his finger, sliding it over Dean's hole, each pass pushing harder, until the tip of his finger pressed inside. He worked Dean's cock harder, faster, teasing and stroking, sucking him hard and moving his mouth to the rhythm that Dean's hips were moving.

Dean lost it... just fucking lost it and started to thrash and fuck Sam's mouth. He stopped caring about the ropes. Stopped caring about the violation of his body. Painfully hard and throbbing, Dean could only focus on thing.... his need for release. He hardly made sense as sounds broke from him, half pleas, half groans. A sheen of sweat covered his body.

Slowly, Sam slid his finger further into Dean's ass, crooking it once he was at the third knuckle, searching for that tight bundle of nerves.

"I'm gonna die... I'm gonna..." And then an intense sensations ripped though him, heightening his pleasure. He jerked so hard at the unexpected jolt that he cut his flesh against the ropes. And then it came again, and again, only a part of his mind putting together that it was Sam's finger inside him, making him thrash and call out, and curse... until he didn't know his own name.

Sam's eyes snapped open, as he looked up at Dean from under his brows, the scent of his blood filling his senses, making his teeth ache, the blood pound in his temples, his eyes changing instantly to inky black.

D ean'sballs drew up tight against his body. He lifted himself high, his limbs taut against the ropes as he came hard... so fucking hard he shouted.

Sam greedily drank down every drop that Dean's body gave, continuing his sweet torture as his orgasm tore through him.

Once Dean was spent, Sam slowly pulled his finger from his body as he pulled his head back,letting Dean's cock fall from his lips.  
Crawling up Dean's form, Sam smiled down at him. "As beautiful as I imagined it.

Breathing deeply, Dean licked the salt off his upper lip, trying not to register how good the coolness of Sam's body felt over his super sensitized skin. Questions and anger lurked in the depths of his own lust glazed eyes. He managed only a one word answer. "Jerk."

Sam chuckled and lowered his head, kissing Dean's neck. "Been called worse." Lifting his head, he looked into Dean's eyes as he ran his tongue over his teeth. "Need to clean up your wound." Inky black eyes darted to Dean's wrist and back. "I should get Car- my father to do it," he said, pulling away.

His father. They were all in on this. It made Dean so mad he started to fight the ropes again, not caring that he was injuring himself. "Get 'em off... get em off me, right now," he demanded, hoarsely. Angry tears filled his eyes. He wished he hadn't enjoyed it, that he hadn't pleaded, that he hadn't come. He wished he'd stayed in the basement. Mostly he wished, he didn't need to be held... to be told something that wasn't okay, was okay.

Freezing in mid motion, Sam frowned down at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He moved back, his body blanketing Dean's as he held him still. "If you do not stop this, I am going to end up drinking you dry!" Sam ground out between clenched teeth. The scent of Dean's blood getting stronger. "Is that what you want!?" He glared at him, "I have to go get my father so he can tend to your wounds so that doesn't happen! Now STOP THIS!"

Sam's weight stopped his legs from moving too much but Dean wouldn't relent when it came to his wrists. "Cut 'em off... the ropes... I don't care Sam, nothing else you could do to me," his voice broke. Yet another betrayal by someone who had kind eyes, a soft voice, and and easy smile... it didn't fucking jibe. The rope burned off a strip of skin. "NOW... I want out, now..."

Sam leaned his head down, slanting his mouth over Dean's, kissing him hard as he reached for the rope binding his wrists, the binds breaking easily under the vampire's strength. Sam pinned Dean's wrists to the lounge beside his head as he pulled his mouth away from Dean's.

"I know that you're mad at me, Dean, but don't make me kill you, please. I'm trying above all else to save your life here." Sam panted out the words, as the blood pounded in his temples, his teeth aching so badly he could scream, the scent of Dean's blood overpowering his senses.

Sam took a deep ragged breath, closing his eyes as he did, lips parted, revealing elongated incisors. Slowly Sam opened his eyes and looked down at Dean. "I don't want to hurt you, just please, let me go get help."

"NO! No, goddammit, you think I want _anyone_ to see me... see this?" He tried to shove Sam away, seeing his teeth, knowing the danger but too wound up to actually care. His hand slipped free of Sam and when he used the flat of his hand to jab Sam's jaw, trying to make him get off, he saw the vampire's nostrils flare at the scent of blood. "This how you do it... play with your food? All your fucking lies... it adds up to this?!" A tear slipped down his cheek, and he couldn't even get to it to wipe it off.

Sam grabbed at Dean's wrist pinning it back down. "I was not playing with my food! If you were going to be a meal, it would have already happened, goddammit!" he snarled, angry jet black eyes intent on green. "I was..." Sam sighed, hanging his head, "I was loving you," the last words spoken softly, gently. Slowly he looked back up at Dean. "I'm sorry you hated it. At least..." coal black eyes strayed to Dean's wrist, before he looked back at him. "At least let me get something to wrap that."

"Do what you want. You will anyway." Another tear slipped out and he turned away.

The instant Sam was off him, Dean sat up and untied his ankles, freeing himself. He was naked... not a stitch of clothing on him. Looking wildly around, he found his pants and quickly pulled them on without his underwear, shrinking away as Sam approached again. "How many lies you gonna tell me? How many deals you gonna break?" He was _not_ going to cry Goddamit, he wasn't.

Sam sighed and sat down on the lounge next to him, reaching for his wrist. "I didn't lie to you and I didn't break any deals," he looked up at him, "intentionally," he added. "But I didn't do it to hurt you. I wanted to make you feel good. Wanted you to enjoy it, wanted to show you that loving me isn't so horrible..." he spoke as he bandaged Dean's wrist, not looking up at him.

"My clothes were supposed to stay on. ON Goddammit, except my shirt. I never said you could...." his shoulders started to shake, as Sam wrapped up his 'scratch' of an injury. "I thought maybe you were different... I believed... You're just another Ros, finding your own way to break me. Well you did it... you fucking did it, alright?" he shouted, slamming both is fists into Sam's granite-like chest. "So why don't you wear that phony smile now? Huh... you won."

Sam reached out, pulling Dean hard up against him, arms wrapped tightly around him, letting him hit him if he wanted to, as much as he wanted to, not saying anything, just holding onto him, his face turned away from Dean's neck, away from temptation. "I'm sorry," he murmured, voice a soft whisper, "I'm really sorry, Dean."

Dean did, hit him, again and again, for as long as he could, working himself into a worse state of frustration as it became clear just how futile his actions were. The Cullens weren't like normal vamps, not the sort he'd met. When he wore himself out, and couldn't even pull away, he threw himself into Sam's arms, face buried in his neck as he let himself go and cried. "I didn't... didn't want to like it..." The words, words he wanted to reel back, poured out of him. "What does this make me... what what did you do to me? I don't even know..."

"Shshsh," Sam soothed running his hand over Dean's back. "I didn't do anything to you Dean. I loved you, that's all. It doesn't make you anything," Sam told him softly. "It was, you were, beautiful," Sam said kissing Dean's temple. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Whatever you want me to do," he nodded, muscle in his jaw twitching, "I'll do it, short of letting you go, I can't do that. But if you want me to go away," he paused. Maybe Alice was wrong, maybe Dean wasn't _the one._ Sam knew how he felt about him, but.... "if you want me to go away, I will. I swear it."

His fingers dug into Sam a little harder at the thought of being left alone or with one of the others. He knew this made no sense, God he knew, but he didn't ... couldn't stand the thought of being alone to think about what happened. Cause if he thought to deeply on it, he'd have to admit things he didn't want to. And running... it wasn't an option yet, not with his knee pain.

Dean rubbed his mouth across Sam's throat, trying to think through the storm of emotions. "Anything I want? Like I wanted sleep and you gave it to me, Sam, you really _gave_ it to me," he said, voice on the verge of breaking. He pulled up suddenly and leaned across the settee, grabbing a length of the rope and twisted it around Sam's throat, holding the two ends and using his knee to push Sam down on his back. "You want to do something for me, you fucking tell me how it feels... your life in my hands, you can't move and I can fuck with you any way I like. Start talking... lie to me, you're a master at that," he grit out, trying to get a piece of himself back.

Sam stared up at him for a long moment, not knowing what to say. "If that's the case, then I can only hope that you feel as deeply for me as I do for you."

"Really? You hope I look at you and think how easy it is to break you?" He pulled the ropes taut, a muscle working in his jaw. "You hope I can figure out exactly how to do it? What else... tell me what it feels like not to be able to move," he practically snarled, rearing his head up and still using his knee to press down on Sam's chest. "Fucking tell me how scared you are... what you think I'll do next... whether you think I'll listen to anything say."

"Dean, I don't look at you and think about breaking you, I think about loving you." Sam sighed, the rope around his neck meant nothing and if he wanted to, he could easily shove Dean away. It wasn't like he needed to breathe anyway, so Dean tightening the rope meant nothing to him. Sam knew that wasn't what Dean wanted to hear.

"I'm scared. I don't know what to expect and I'm your prisoner. I have no rights here and I'm weaker than you are. I have no way of knowing if you'll kill me, drink me, drain me or what will happen." Sam licked his lips, "Is that what you were looking for? Because you forgot to add, 'but I know that you claim to love me, and I hope that you do, I hope that after this you'll hold me and tell me how beautiful I was, how much you loved the way I looked, how I smelled, how I felt and tasted."

Grasping Sam's face, his thumb and index brutally digging into his cheeks, Dean closed his eyes against all the emotions swirling in Sam's eyes. Lies, they had to be. And he had to stop them. Crushing his mouth over Sam's, he pushed his tongue inside. Aggressive, angry, confused about what he was feeling, what he should believe, what was truth and what was lies. When he felt Sam move, he bit his tongue... hard, then stroked it with his tongue, refusing to allow him to take control.

Sam easily allowed Dean's tongue entrance into his mouth, sighing softly at the though that while he was being manhandled by rough, angry hands, maybe he had gotten through to Dean. Maybe he understood that he loved him, cared for him. When he started to move, to twist his tongue along Dean's, the sharp pain of Dean biting him had Sam jerking, though he fought not to attack, not to do what came natural and defend himself. He fought to simply allow Dean his anger, even as Sam tasted his own blood in his mouth. Sam made a soft whimper sound deep in his throat as he swallowed down the first stream of his own blood. He could still smell Dean's blood and he was fighting against instinct, fighting not to push Dean back and take what his body wanted. To drink and put out the fires of bloodlust that were coursing through him.

Dean took Sam's mouth as surely as Sam had taken him, giving no quarter, forcing him to respond, but only within the boundaries set by Dean. He practically snarled when Sam started to push his own tongue into his mouth. The angry kiss went on and on. Dean's hands slipped into Sam's hair, fingers curling tightly into the vampire's soft hair, using it to position Sam's face where he wanted when he wanted.

With Dean's near snarl, Sam wasn't sure what Dean wanted of him, what he wanted him to do, so he tried to only follow where he would lead. Keeping his hands away from him, not touching, his hands gripped the lounge, to keep them there, to keep from wrapping his arms around Dean and taking more than Dean wanted to give. He didn't want to upset him further, hadn't meant to upset him like this at all. Feeling Dean's hands in his hair, Sam's neck arched slightly, wanting so badly to deepen the kiss, make it his own, to run his hands over Dean'sbody, but still, he held back.

 _This is how you made me feel. Powerless. And fucking loving it. Can you live with that?_ The truth burned out Dean's anger, and suddenly he was kissing Sam for comfort, for companionship, for the different type of fire the vampire could start. Groaning, he gripped Sam's shirt and rolled over, forcing Sam on top of him, having no idea where he was going with this, but needing it. Needing it bad.

When the kiss changed, the touches became more gentle, less angry Sam still wasn't sure. He found himself laying on his love, he planted his knees against the lounge to keep his groin from touching him, from making Dean upset again, from feeling his arousal press into him. Palms flat against the lounge, Sam held himself away as much as he could, still allowing Dean what he wanted. Letting him take what he felt he needed to.

"Sam?" Dean moved his mouth against Sam's, then said his name again, raising up, trying to feel Sam on top of him. Making a sound of disgruntlement, he tugged down on him, hands going around Sam's tapered waist and dragging him close. A moan broke from him as their bodies collided, his already hard cock pressing into Sam' firm thigh. He broke for air, and then licked Sam's lip, bringing his head up to join their mouths once again.

Sam moaned softly, eyes squeezed tightly closed, the feel of Dean's body under him make him even harder, as Dean kissed him, licked his lips and kissed him again. _Oh God... so good, so good._ His hands moved along Dean's body, anywhere he could reach, caressing, touching, feeling, mapping out the way he felt yet again, needing it, needing him.

Dragging his lips from Dean's Sam gazed down into green eyes. "Oh God... so good, baby. I want you, God, I want you," he spoke through gritted teeth, holding back desires, cravings, instinct, wanting to be sure this wasn't going to upset Dean again later. Mess things up further between them more, before it even got started.

There were so many things that he saw in Sam's eyes, only now he didn't know what to believe anymore. One thing Dean did know was that _this_ , this much he could handle. "Just like this," he said, hands moving up and down Sam's body as he rhythmically lifted his hips. "Hold me... kiss me... it's all I want," Dean said, his own eyes burning for more, but afraid to take that next step again. Too soon... it was too soon.

Sam nodded, jaw clenched before he licked his lips, moaning softly. Sam pulled up, straddling Dean's hips, his hands running down Dean's chest and back up slowly, his eyes following the movement of his hands, before meeting Dean's again. He leaned down, slanting his mouth over Dean's, tongue delving into his mouth as his hands slid under Dean's back, lifting him slightly, making his back arch as Sam ground his hips down against his, unable to get enough of him. To touch him enough, taste his skin enough, the need, the desire to taste his blood so strong, wanting to mark him, to fuck him, to claim him as his own nearly overwhelming him.

Their bodies moved together, breaths mingling, groans filling the air. Dean worked his hands down under Sam's waistband, his palms pressing against the vampire's firm globes, squeezing him. The kissing only stopped for him to get air, and then their mouths worked against other again, tasting, learning, whispering. He knew... he knew Sam wanted more, that he could take more if he wanted to, that he'd already awakened tied up before and there was nothing to stop Sam. But if it was gonna happen, then let it be over with, the confusion would end and he'd know just how much of a bastard Sam was. This was a test of sorts... bringing Sam to the edge.

Dean tore his mouth away. "Okay. Enough."


	5. Chapter 5

Sam gasped, heavy breaths panting out against Dean's face as he looked down at him. God how he wanted more, knew he could take what he wanted in every way there was, knew it like he knew tomorrow would come, but he fought against the need. Held back, even when the ache in his teeth made him groan, the pounding of blood in his temples enough to make him scream, the sound of Dean's heart beat, of the blood rushing through his veins, exciting him as much as the hard body beneath him.

Sam nodded, breathing hard like a human who had just run for miles, breathing as though he needed to, his body felt feverish, his head was spinning with the mingled lust and bloodlust tearing through him, but he managed that nod.  
"Oh - okay," he panted out, clenching his teeth, and rolling off Dean. "G - gimme a minute," he told him, squeezing his eyes closed, as he tried not to think about the pounding heart beside him, the body he wanted so badly, so close and yet so far.

Immediately, Dean swung his legs off the settee, hunched over and just tried to breath... tried to get his heartbeats under control, and his hormones... Goddamn hormones. He turned and looked at Sam who looked like he was in some pain, and gave a choked laugh. "Revenge of the humans..." Not that brilliant though when the human was sitting there just as hard.

Sam's hands were squeezed into tight fists at his sides, his eyes closed tight, jaw clenched as he fought against the need to simply take and not care what Dean wanted, what he would think, how it would hurt him. To sImply take and kill this pain, this torture he was allowing himself to endure for this human. He nodded, turning his head away, but remained silent as lust and bloodlust rode him hard, made him ache, his fangs fully extended cut into his lip as he grit his teeth, his eyes were black black behind closed lids, his breaths came hard, chest rising and falling with each one, nostrils flared.

When Sam didn't answer, Dean added. "When you're teaching someone to swim, you don't toss them into the deep end of the pool." That's what Sam had done to him.

Sam slowly turned his head toward Dean, his eyes full of hunger, of desire and lust, opened, to stare hard at him. "And when you swim with a shark, you make certain you aren't cut and bloody."

"Is THAT what you want? I could have sworn it was something else." Why was he testing the limits of his captor? Dean couldn't seem to stop himself.

Sam groaned. "I want a lot of things," he swallowed, his head rolling on on the cushioned lounge, "none of which you would be willing to give."

"All of which you can get from other people. Didn't you say people trip all over themselves for a chance at you?" A stab of jealousy went through him, and it was unsettling. "Are you... you gotta be, a gay vampire? God that just sounds like some B rated movie," he groaned as the words left him.

Sam shook his head. "Vampires don't see gender as important, Dean... it's not the same. There is something about a certain person and we know," he shook his head and repeated more quietly, "we just know."

Dean met his gaze, and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not. I don't play on the other team," he said, confusion coloring his voice even as he tried to be firm about it.

Sam looked over at him, "So you say."

"You think I am?" he asked quietly.

Sam licked his lips as he slowly rolled onto his side, "I think.... that you are _the one_ for me," he said, voice just as quiet.

A warmth flushed through Dean, though his face jerked up. "Is this a mind fuck?"

"No. I swear to you. If you don't believe me, ask.... ask anyone in my family. Alice, she saw it.... it's why Ros has been told to be kinder to you. Why my father said what he did about you." He sighed, looking down at the lounge, "I knew it the moment I saw you," he said softly.

And still he'd left him in a cold basement to starve and suffer. He'd left him at Ros' 'kinder' mercies. Been in turns kind and rough tonight. That didn't seem to be any way to 'catch a date' to Dean. "So vampire dating... kinda Neanderthal style? Beat someone over the head and drag 'em to your cave."

"When there is an emergency and it needs to be done quickly... yes. I'm sorry I didn't have time for silk sheets and candlelight, Dean."

"I've never slept on silk sheets, and only candles I've lit are for rituals." This was extreme, did Sam even see that? "What needs to?" If he mentioned some sort of virgin sacrifice, he was gonna kick his ass, vampire or not.

Sam sighed. "I need to mark you, make you mine, need you to see that we are meant to be together, I..." he over at Dean, slowly shaking his head, "need you to love me." Sam looked away, "if you don't wish to do that, I'll do what I can, I'll see if I can fight for you, I don't know..." he shook his head, staring off, a dark frown on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Leaning over, he shook Sam's shoulder. "Why do you need to do all that?" What kind of obsession was this? "Fight who? Ros, your dad?" He pushed up off the bed and started pacing in front of the window. "You could just let me go. Get me out of here, you know you could." Stopping, he looked at Sam. "You could maybe come see me after. I'm not promising anything." He shouldn't even be promising his time, but a part of him wanted resolution... wanted to know what this was between them.

Sam sighed as he shook his head 'no. "They're already coming, so no, I can't." He looked away, "Ros should never have called them in the first place."

"You're frustrating me." Without asking, Dean opened the window up the rest of the way, noticing the nice fat tree branch right outside. Glancing over his shoulder at Sam, who looked relaxed, he just went for it... stepped up onto its ledge and jumped to the fat branch. Yeah, he knew he couldn't get away, or he might have climbed all the way to the ground and taken off. Instead, he found himself a spot where he could put his back gainst the trunk, and sat there, looking up at the silvery moon and breathing in the night air. Even the slight sprinkle didn't bother him, not now, though it was cold.

Sam moved quicker than the human eye could follow, one minute he had been relaxed on the lounge, the next he was on the branch, teeth bared for an instant, before he relaxed again, when he saw Dean wasn't trying to get away. Sam crouched, looking away. "Don't try to get away, Dean. It would be worse for you. They'll hunt you down and kill you when you least expect it." He looked back at him, "and I wouldn't be there to fight for you."

Although he'd been expecting Sam to follow, Dean's heart still slammed against his chest at the sight of him in full predator mode. His back pressed into the bark, and didn't relax until Sam did too. "They. I don't think there's a 'they' Sam. It's you, and maybe your family." He was quiet for a moment. "My dad and my brother went out fighting monsters. I don't want to go out a prisoner. I always thought I'd maybe save someone, you know." They'd saved him, they'd died for him, and then they'd left him all alone. "Then at least one person would give a shit."

Sam stared at him. "Someone would give a shit, Dean. Me. Someone who would mourn you for eternity." He paused, "and there is a 'them'," he sighed looking down, "they're coming... for you. Ros called them when she and Emmet caught you, before Alice saw you in her vision, before I saw you and felt it. Sam shook his head looking back out at nothing, "she didn't know, and now it's too late."

"Them who? Who, Goddamnit? Other vamps?" At Sam's nod, he shook his head. "Well fine, then let me go. You've got nothing to lose, and I get to go down fighting. I've got weapons you couldn't dream of, might even surprise you. But sitting here, half starved and then facing them like that... that's not... it's not what I want. Not what you should want, even if only half of what you say is true." He crawled on all fours toward Sam, carefully leaning forward and bringing his mouth close. "Please... please Sam... do this for me." His hot breaths fanned Sam's face.

Sam opened his mouth, it was on the tip of his tongue to say 'yes', he wanted to say yes, but he couldn't. There was no way Dean could fight these vamps. He might not understand it, might not believe it, but Sam was Dean's best hope. Either loving him, and allowing him to mark him, or fighting for him and likely dying in the process. Sam shook his head sadly, "I can't."

"Yes you can." He brushed his mouth against Sam's check. "Please... please Sam." Moving his mouth over Sam's ear, he tongued him. "I beg you, please Sam..." Kissing him lightly, he didn't move away. "Say 'yes'... say it."

Sam sucked in a ragged breath, his eyes closing, "I want to, God, I want to." He bit his lip, "but I can't." He opened his eyes and turned his head, cupping the side of Dean's face, "You don't get it," he shook his head slowly, "you can't fight these vamps. I don't care what weapons you have. Nothing can kill them, Dean. They are centuries old for a reason. I'm sorry, if I let you go..." he huffed, "I might as well have killed you myself." He let his hand fall away from Dean's face as he tore his gaze away too. The Voltari were the vampire's version of orgnized crime style police, their job to make sure no humans found out about them. Once a hunter had been reported... 

"You don't get it, Sam. I'd rather go out fighting, than like this," he said sadly, sitting back, straddling the branch, but now with nothing supporting his back. His knees touched Sam's. "If you're trying to be cruel to be kind... you're missing the mark. Trust me."

"I'm trying to save your life," Sam whispered, before he turned his head to look at him, "And maybe get you to see that loving me isn't so bad." He offered a small smile.

Dean shook his head. "I don't believe in love at first sight. I'm twenty eight, Sam. I've been around. Hasn't happened once, not even in highschool. That's just something people make up. A nice story, sort of opposite of the horrific urban legends."

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "A lot of people don't believe in vampire's either."

Meeting his gaze, Dean gave a nod. He had him there.

* * *

Dean tried to roll over onto his back but came awake quickly, like a bucket of freezing water had been poured over him. He was tied up again, this time face down, which could not be good. "Sam? Why...." He licked his lips and arched up off the bed, testing the bindings. Fuck. "Why... after everything, why?"

Ros stood behind Dean, her pretty face screwed into a hateful frown, a duster in her hand, one that she held backward, she smacked Dean's ass with the handle before running it over the ass cheek she had just smacked. Golden eyes narrowed with contempt.

A shocked shout escaped Dean at the stinging pain, then the soft soothing touch. What the fuck? His pants were pulled half way down and Sam was... "What is this..." his breaths came out heavily. "You can't... Sam you can't. Stop." Just anticipating another strike was making him tense up. "I'll rip all my skin off, you know I will," he threatened, tugging on the ropes.

Ros shrugged her shoulders, golden eyes flickering up to his wrists. "And then I'll drink you dry and put my brother out of his misery," she stated flatly before smacking his ass again.

"Sonova..." She was doing this to humiliate him, and she was doing a good job of it. "What are you... getting off on this? At least face me... fight me, fucking coward bitch." He'd been afraid of what Sam would do, but a part of him had always felt secure. That was gone now. She wanted him dead.

Ros stepped around the side of the lounge, leaning down she grabbed a handful of Dean's hair and pulled back, her fangs bared as she leaned in close to his throat. "I could drink you dry now, save the others the effort."

He grit his teeth against the pain, felt her breath against his throat. "I thought vampires didn't do garlic. Can you at least brush the teeth?" He tried to head butt her, but she was holding on too tight and he only managed to hurt himself, cursing again.

Releasing his hair with a shove she wrinkled her nose in distaste. "No, I think it will be more fun to watch the others as they slowly kill you... drinking you slowly while you scream for your life. It's better than you deserve, you know., she scoffed, "a hunter. As if the likes of you would ever be good enough to be with my brother." She shook her head, "have you looked at him?" she quirked a brow, "He's beautiful. Perfect." Ros curled her lips in disgust, "unlike some pieces of garbage I see!"

"Damn you." He rested his cheek down. "Everything you just said... all you gotta do is let me go. Then they'll come after me, and you'll have your perfect beautiful brother here while 'they' try to drain me." He heard her move and stiffened. "Touch me again, bitch, and I swear, first time I get the opportunity, I _am_ coming after you." This was different from the shoves and rough treatment.

The end of the duster trailed down between the cheeks of his ass slowly, "No, if I let you go, my brother would be heart broken," she sighed, "he fancies himself in love with you. Barely speaks to us anymore he's so focused on the likes of you. But I hear you don't," she stilled the end of the duster over his hole, "want him."

Sam's bedroom door opened as Sam walked in, face flushed with color from his feeding.

A snarl broke from his throat as he took in the scene before him. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"This the part you two play good cop, bad cop?" Resentment flared in Dean's stomach. He knew damned well Sam had left him and then had left his fucked-in-the head sister to watch him. "You're getting off on this, aren't you? Having me tied up and bare assed, sonova..."

"You need to break him, Sam. Being nice... bringing him presents, that's getting you nowhere fast," she snarled at her brother.

Sam snarled back, "this is NONE of your business, Rosalie! Dean is MINE! Leave him the hell ALONE!" He shoved past her to Dean, yanking the rope free on one of his ankles as he glared at his sister.

"If he was YOURS, we wouldn't be in this situation," she snarled right back. "He's a hunter, Sam... it's not like falling for a human, he's a hunter. There is nothing you can do to change that... he will always reject you."

Dean felt a second ankle get freed from the ropes. He tugged on the one holding his wrist closest to where Sam was standing, a reminder.

"He's got you all twisted and hurting. This isn't you Sam, staying up here or in the damned basement all the time, ignoring everything else. Get your life back."

Dean had only one wrist untied, but he tried to make good on his promise, barely pulling his pants up before aiming a kick at Ros' face. "Fucking bitch."

Sam's hand snaked out, grabbing Dean's ankle as he tried to kick at Rosalie, stopping him without even taking his eyes off his sister. He held Dean's ankle in his hand as he spoke. "And you think THIS is suppose to make things better for me!? For us!? Look, Ros, I'm running out of goddamn time, and you're not helping! You want me out of my room and out of the basement, then be constructive in helping me with Dean not destructive! He has feelings, ya know!? He's not..." he glanced over at the ankle he still held and released it, before looking back at his sister, "he's not a goddamn cheeseburger."

At that moment, Dean didn't know which of them he hated more. Sam for stopping him, or her for that triumphant look in her eyes. He scrambled to undo his other wrist.

"Keep him under control, or I will," she answered, knowing the fire in Dean's eyes was for her. She made her way to the door, making sure the human had a chance to reach her.

As soon as the rope was off, Dean launched himself at her again. His hand was to the back of her head, shoving her forward toward the fancy clothes hook on the door.

Sam was there, pulling Dean away as though he weighed nothing, as though the strength he used to force Ros's head toward the hook was nothing. "Ros, stop antagonizing!" Sam bit out, watching as she laughed.

Sam moved his mouth near Dean's ear, "You can't kill her, she's playing with you, trying to get a rise out of you. Don't let her." He looked back at his sister, "GET OUT!" he snarled, showing fang.

As the door slammed shut behind the blonde, Dean shoved at Sam. "Damn you... ALL of you." He let out a few audible breaths. "You left her in here, with me. And you're 'surprised'? The fuck you are."

Sam shook his head, "I didn't leave her here! I left Alice! I have no idea why Ros was here when I got here and Alice wasn't!" he huffed and shook his head, "I brought you something to eat," he motioned to the chair he had tossed the bag in when he'd walked into his room.

"Real food." Just like that, Dean forgot his anger and scrambled for the bag, pulling out a burger and fries... and he didn't even care it wasn't breakfast food. Pulling the chair further from the desk, he sat down and started in on the burger, making sounds of satisfaction, practically sounding like he was making love to his food. And there was coffee, he could smell it. And a cold drink... all bases covered.

Sam watched Dean rush over to the food, as he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. His golden hazel eyes watching every movement Dean made, watching his mouth as he licked his lips between bites. "You know, those sounds," Sam shook his head, "you're a tease," he stated simply, tearing his gaze away. "Would you like a shower after you eat?" he looked back at Dean and shook his head, "I don't mean Ros' definition of a washing." He jutted his chin toward the back corner of his room, "you could use my bathroom."

"Not teasing, just hungry." After the first bite, he'd known he would give Sam anything Sam asked for if it was a condition for finishing the burger. And even if there were no conditions, if his mouth weren't otherwise busy, he might be kissing the vampire for bringing the most delicious burger he'd ever had. "Mmm, so good." He licked the ketchup clean off his fingers and started on the fries.

His gaze went to the door to the adjoining bathroom, then he sniffed himself. "Do I smell?" He did want a shower, but was that a hint?

Sam smiled slightly, "You always smell," he smiled wider, "but if you mean badly," he shook his head, "no." he shrugged a shoulder. "I just thought perhaps...warm water..." he frowned and shrugged again, his eyes on Dean's lips, his mouth. "If you keep licking ketchup off your fingers like that, we," his gaze already beginning to darken flickered up to meet Dean's green eyes, "are going to have a problem."

"Don't wanna waste any... oh." Dean swallowed. The look on Sam's face took his breath away, like he'd been sucker punched. He couldn't deny the thrill of excitement either. "I'd ah... kiss or lick ketchup off your mouth too, but you wouldn't want to stop there." It was more of a question, a bold one.

Sam's jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he stared intently at the hunter. "No, I wouldn't want to... but I could try." Even as he stood there, simply taking about it, Sam could feel his eyes darkening as his teeth began to slowly ache, the blood to pound in his temples.

"C'mere." No way Dean was leaving his food, even for a second. He wolfed down the rest of the burger as Sam walked to him with seemingly leaden feet. Now that Dean was full, he felt a lot more like himself. Dipping a fry into the ketchup, he stood up and used it to paint the ketchup over Sam's lips. "You like french fries?" he asked, taking the fry in his mouth and angling the other end toward Sam's reddened lips, offering it to him.

Sam slowly shook his head, his gaze intent on Dean's mouth as he held himself perfectly still.

Sucking the whole fry into his own mouth, Dean ate it. He might have looked calm but Sam's concentrated gaze was making his blood thicken and warm, and all he could think about was the intensity of feelings that might be running through his obsessed vampire. Cupping Sam's head, he leaned in and licked the corner of Sam's mouth clean, and made the same "mmm" sound that had disturbed the vampire earlier. "Tastes good on you." He started to trace the edge of Sam's lower lip, taking as little ketchup as he could, teasing him.

Sam's hands clenched into fists at his sides as his eyes slowly closed, the feel of Dean's tongue on his mouth making his teeth ache, making him want more, just like the hunter had predicted, though he fought it, fought the desire, the need to slant his mouth over Dean's, to shove him back, push him down and take what he wanted, what he needed. Body and blood. Instead he concentrated on just the feel of Dean's tongue and on the fact that this alone was progress. Sam's lips parted in a silent gasping of breath, a low moan slipping out from between parted lips. His tongue moved to the edge of his own lips, far enough away from the ketchup not to taste it, but wanting so badly to touch Dean's tongue with his own he couldn't seem to stop the small movement.

Pulling back, Dean took in Sam's tortured expression. He really was beautiful, Dean could see that now. His tongue darted out to lick the rest of the ketchup from Sam's lower lip, then he leaned in and sucked his lip into his mouth, the ketchup from Sam's upper lip smearing over both of them. Pushing his tongue out, he touched Sam's, before pulling off and releasing is lip.

He took a couple of deep breaths, brought his hand around to the side of Sam's face and after tracing his upper lip, sucked on it too. Sliding his mouth down then, he whispered against Sam's lips, "kiss me Sam."

Sam's eyes nearly rolled up into his head at the softly spoken words, the warmth that shot through his veins as he lifted his arms, wrapping them around Dean and pulling him closer, slanting his mouth over Dean's, his tongue delving deep into Dean's mouth, mapping it out, moaning at the taste of him, at the feel of his warm mouth against his own. Tongues tangled, before Sam pulled his tongue back making Dean chase it, then latched onto Dean's tongue sucking it like he had his cock before, low moans sounding deep in his throat.

Damn. The guy knew how to kiss. Dean's moans joined Sam's as he pressed himself closer, both hands cupping Sam's neck, his thumbs running up and down the sides of Sam's throat as their tongues and mouths worked over each other. Each time Sam caught his tongue, a jolt of heat went straight to Dean's cock, getting him hard. He thought about how good Sam's mouth had felt on him, even when he was angry and didn't want him anywhere close... how the feelings he stirred burned everything else out of his mind. Whimpering as thoughts of demanding a replay entered his mind, he broke away, taking a step back, and wiping his thumb over his mouth. "Make a... a great dessert," he gave a weak smile. "I think I'll take you up on the shower."

Sam didn't move, didn't speak and didn't breath for a long moment as he battled against instinct, battled against what his body told him to do. Finally, he took in a breath, taking a leadened step back and nodded. "Good idea."

Licking his lips, Dean headed for the bathroom, but stopped to turn. "That was... good." There was no guilt this time, just a flush of pleasure, and the knowledge that they'd both been turned on.

Sam gave a nod, as he stood stiff, his back ridged. "It was," he agreed, though his teeth were now aching so badly he wanted to scream, the blood pounding in his temples, his cock hard and throbbing in his jeans. "You... should go," he nodded, his words softly spoken, offering a soft smile, though the illusion was ruined due to his enlongated fangs showing.

Feeling a distinct prickling at his throat, Dean ducked inside the bathroom and closed the door. Leaning against it, he saw how large the bathroom was. It too had a floor to ceiling window which could have been awkward if there were neighbors and the room weren't so high up. The thought of trying to get out crossed his mind but he discarded it immediately. Now wasn't the time. But maybe... maybe soon. Once Sam let his guard down. He closed his eyes for a second, knowing the opposit was happening too, but he didn't know how to stop this... stop his own strange and uncontrolable feelings.

A moment later, he started to walk toward the glass enclosed triple headed shower, which was enticing, but the deep bath drew his attention. He bet it had air jets. Glancing over his shoulder at the closed door, he wondered if Sam would mind. Fuck it... that kiss should keep him busy for a while.

Almost whistling, Dean turned the hot water on and started to strip. It was amazing how fast the water filled the tub, like in two minutes flat. Climbing up the two steps to the tub, he put his foot in, and then got in bodily, making a deep sound of pleasure as hot water surrounded him up to his neck. So awesome. Yeah, he had a thing for relaxing in hot water, so what?

After laying back for a while, he reached for the big block of soap and sniffed it. It smelled like sandlewood, kind of like Sam. Unknowingly smiling, he started to lather himself up, washing comfortably for the first time since he'd been here. No one was rushing him, or dunking him in freezing water. It was almost like he was a guest rather than a captive.

Once he was done with the soaping, he figured out how to start the jets. The air circulating around him turned the soap into bubbles, so it looked like he was taking a bubble bath. He didn't give a shit, all he cared about was how good it felt. More moans of pleasure left him as he lay there with his eyes closed. Even when the jets automatically shut off, he couldn't move. "Never leaving here," he muttered to himself. "So good."

*

After Dean closed the bathroom door,Sam released his breaht and hung his head, running a hand through his hair. Walking over to the loung he took a seat and laid back, staring up at the ceiling, trying not to think about the kiss or the way Dean's lips had felt, the way he had tasted on his tongue.

He lay there, listening, dispite himself to the soft moans of pleasure leaving Dean as he bathed. Sam could tell he had chosen the bath by the sound of the running water when it filled the tub and the splashes of water afterward as he bathed. Now the sounds were really getting to him, unable to make himself drown them out any longer, his teeth aching, the blood pounding in his temples, Sam pulled from the lounge, walking to the bathroom.

Pushing the door open, he stood in the doorway, silently looking down at Dean for a long moment before walking over to the tubs edge and crouching beside Dean, dipping his hand into the water, he ran his hand up Dean's chest. "Not nice to tease." he spoke the words softly, voice husky.

"Not teasing. What... breathing means teasing?" he asked, biting his lower lip as Sam's hand slipped across his chest. "I just like this a lot. Feels good. Hot. Wet... do you do this often," he asked, his voice just as low and husky.

Sam shook his head slowly, ebony eyes intent on green, "Breathing isn't moaning." He licked his lips, "I have good hearing, remember." His gaze darted down to the water, then back up to Dean's face. "Often?" his lips curved slightly, "define often," he looked down at his hand on Dean's chest and shook his head, "not like this I don't, no," he told him,slowly looking back up into Dean's green gaze.

"You mean with someone else here. Not surprised. You're probably like Marilyn on The Munsters. Your family chases everyone away." It was hard, trying to keep his breaths even, trying to sound unaffected, even as he stared into eyes that... he didn't know how to describe the bottomless hunger he saw within them.

Sam smiled slightly, "My family isn't that bad. Not all of them." He licked his lips, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to keep from doing more as his fingers ran over Dean's smooth wet skin slowly. "You're making that look better than I know it is." Sam huffed a soft breath, "Careful, or I might just join you, and then what would you do?"

Indecision warred inside Dean. He was warm and comfortable, and he liked being able to tease from a safe distance. _What is safe about this distance?!_ Then again, thoughts of kissing and touching in the water were starting to make his heart race and putting his imagination into overdrive. His stomach tensed when he thought Sam's hands were moving lower, but they slipped back up. "I don't know. Make room?"

Sam smiled, huffing out an almost chuckle as he quirked a brow, "Was that a yes?"

"I think so." Dean swallowed, wondering if this was the craziest thing he'd done yet. "Guess I don't take advice well... about swimming with sharks."

Sam gave a slight nod as he moved back, standing to his full height, his eyes still on Dea., "This shark will try to curb his hunger as much as possible," he told him,reaching for the hem of his tee and pulling it up, over his head, tossing it onto the floor.

Hands went to the fastenings of his jeans then, nimble fingers making quick work of the button and zipper. Toeing off his boots, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of both jeans and boxers pulling them down, revealing his smi-erection. Stepping out of his pants, Sam removed his socks, moving back toward the water and slowly climbing up the steps and into the tub.

Dean had carefully watched Sam's strip tease, eyes lingering for too long on Sam's erection, filled with wonder at how quickly that happened... they'd barely touched. "Tease," he tossed back, moving over, unsure whether Sam would sit across from him or next to him, or..."

Sam's eyes met Dean's, a grin on his face as he slid into the water and moved, hands skimming Dean's waist as he positioned himself behind Dean, legs spread one on each side of Dean's body, one arm wrapped possessively around his waist as he leaned his head in, mouth next to Dean's ear, "Pretend I'm not even here, I'll amuse myself," he whispered softly, his free hand running slowly up Dean's thigh.

"Okay. You're just the back of the tub, check." Right, with arms and legs wrapping around him, holding him, owning him, and a mouth that was moving against his ear, wreaking havoc with his senses. Not to mention long fingers moving up and down his thigh. He let out a breath and looked over. "How come I'm getting the feeling I'm playing 'blanket'?" He was serious, since Sam's cock was pricking into is back and was only getting harder.

Sam hummed against Dean's ear, eyes closed as he drew in his scent. "I'm not touching myself, my hands are no where near myself," he murmured huskily against Dean's ear, arm tightening slightly around Dean's waist. "You smell good... better than the blanket. Scent is stronger, more.... alive." He smiled slightly against Dean's skin, a slide of fang as his lips curved. "You have no idea how much you make me ache."

"I smell like you, your soap." Damn, Sam's voice, the stuff he said was so seductive, it made Dean tingle in all sorts of places. "Oh I know how much," he rocked back against him, making his point as he rubbed against Sam's arousal. Why was he teasing him? Why did he like to hear this shit, like he was some girl that needed to be coaxed?

Sam shook his head slightly, "No, you have your own scent.... under the soap. A scent that calls to me, excites me, makes me ache, my body respond without even having to touch you." He inhaled deeply, moaning softly as he nuzzled Dean's neck. "Oh God..." he breathed the words, his hand on Dean's thigh pausing, gripping flesh, fingertips digging in as he ran his hand slowly upward.

Dean found Sam's free hand in the water and lifted it up, looking at his long fingers, knowing the strength of his hands. He brought it to his mouth, licked his palm in circles. Sliding his mouth over, he started to weave his tongue in and out between Sam's fingers, sometimes using his lips to nip him. "Tell me about yourself."

Sam's head tilted back as Dean began to lick and nip at his hand, low moans and groans leaving him. "Dean..." he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth as his cock pulsed against the cleft of Dean's ass, his lower back. "You shouldn't..." he groaned, "tease a shark."

"Not teasing. Tasting," Dean corrected. "Tell me something about you. No, tell me what you'd have done if we'd met in a bar instead of here." Lowering his mouth, this time he took Sam's index finger in his mouth, played with it with his tongue, and sucked. He really wanted to know. What would it have been like if they'd run into each other under normal circumstances, the whole hunter/vampire thing aside. It might give him a glimpse into Sam's life too.

Sam's breaths panted out as he squeezed his eyes closed, lips parted. "Dean... God..." he drew in a deep breath, pressing his lips together. "Hmm... I - I would have seduced you," a small smile curved his lips, "bought you a drink, spoken to you, asked you about yourself, told you how beautiful you are, how much you excited me, invited you to meet me outside," his head rolled against the wall as he licked his lips. "When you did," he smiled, "and you would have, I would have kissed you, tasted your lips, your skin, would have taken you somewhere and made slow love to you, showed you how good it can be, marked you, made you mine." Sam shook his head, "Enough! Stop!"

He wished all those things happened. Maybe not all, he wasn't sure. Kissing Sam's palm one more time, he took his other hand, completely ignoring the warning. "How can you be sure I wouldn't have knocked you on your ass?" He traced Sam's fingers with his tongue, sucking on their tips. He could feel him moving his hips ever so slightly, probably trying to control himself. It made Dean go hard ... just the thought alone did it.

"Please," Sam panted out the pained word, his hips moving, rubbing himself against Dean slightly, "you have to stop. I can't..." he pressed his lips together a moan tearing from deep in his throat. Lips parted, as he panted out his breaths, "You wouldn't have," Sam didn't mention that it was impossible for Dean to 'knock him on his ass.' "You would have wanted me," he nodded, "I'm lucky that way." He smiled slightly, through the throbbing of his cock, his teeth, the pounding of blood in his temples.

Dean smiled against Sam's palm, then dropped it into the water. Gripping the side of the tub, he raised himself up and twisted around, water splashing out as he landed on Sam, now facing him. Giving a self conscious cough as his abs trapped Sam's cock, and his own touched Sam's inner thigh, he put one hand on Sam's shoulder. "What does that mean. To claim someone." He smiled, "don't leave out why you'd want to do that, and what it feels like." Was he playing with the shark now? Yeah... no doubt about it.

Sam's eyes opened, dark, black and full of hunger as he looked at Dean. "Claiming you," he licked his lips, tried to back up slightly, but his back was already pressed against the wall of the tub and only managed to rub his cock against Dean's abs. "I'd take your body, your blood, be one with you unlike anything you could ever imagine. The feeling is," he gave a half sigh, half gasp, "erotic, like another orgasm only this one can go on and on until I stop drinking. But I would have to cut you to do it," he licked his lips, "my fangs have a venom, if I bit you, you would be in horrible pain."

His stomach tightened, need slamming into him with unexpected force. Dean pressed his lips over Sam's, kissing him lightly, fingers digging into his flesh. "Then what?" he asked, fear lacing his softly asked question. Was he really thinking about it. "What does it mean?"

Sam moaned, lashes fluttering as he opened his eyes once Dean had broken the kiss. "It means that you are mine. No other vampire will touch you. You will have my scent, my mark. As soon as they see you, smell you, they would know you belong to me."

"Oh yeah?" Lifting up, Dean started to rub himself over Sam, limbs sliding together, chest to chest. Dean got harder with each pass of his body, his breaths growing labored as he spoke. "So it's a vamp versus vamp thing, huh. I can see how horny that gets you. Must be like when I see someone I like in my clothes," he tried to find the human equivalent. "Sam? I'm getting horny now. Think we could ... do some _stuff_ "

Sam swallowed hard, "Yeah?" he exhaled a ragged breath, a near groan as he leaned in slanting his mouth over Dean's, arms circling Dean's waist and pulling him closer as he ground his cock against Dean, moaning into the kiss. "Want you so much," Sam dipped his head, kissing a path down Dean's neck and back up, his jaw, the corners of his mouth. "I'm not gonna wanna stop, you'll have to tell me," he moved them, changing their positions in the water quickly, rolling them so that he was laying on Dean, keeping Dean's head out of the water, against the back of the tub. Dark eyes gazed at Dean for a long moment before Sam moved backward in the large tub, down Dean's body and dipped his head under the water, taking Dean's cock into his mouth.

The instant Sam's mouth closed around him, Dean's head slammed back, his heels digging into the hard surface of the bottom of the tub as he lifted himself up and gave voice to the deep moan welling up in his throat. Oh God, he was getting a blow job... under water, and it felt so damn different... so damn good as he slid in and out of Sam's mouth, all the way to his throat. It went on and on, Dean winding his fingers around Sam's hair, pushing and pulling harder as he got worked up, until he thought he couldn't take it any more and he pulled hard, pulling Sam off him and sitting up.

He stared at Sam's wet face, water dripping from it and from his hair into his eyes... so fucking hot, too damned irresistable. He leaned in and gave him an open mouthed kiss, his tongue moving over Sam's, mapping every inch of his wicked mouth. He tangled his tongue with Sam's, sucking Sam's into his mouth, then letting Sam kiss him until he was out of breath.

Pushing, he got the vampire to sit up across from him. "My turn," Dean laughed at Sam's expression as he took a deep breath and dipped his head under water. He'd never had another guy's dick in his mouth. Hell, he'd never had another guy's dick in his hand, except in the middle of a dirty fight, but that didn't count. And here he was, mouthing Sam's cock, doing his best to suck on it under water.

Sam wasn't at all sure that Dean would be able to do this underwater, but he wasn't about to argue, especially when his hot mouth closed around his throbbing erection. "Holy..." Sam ground out through gritted teeth, a hand going to Dean's head, digits tangling in the short soft strands.

Too quickly, Dean ran out of breath and pulled his head up out of the water. "If you get on your knees..."

Sam smiled slightly at him, a knowing look on his face, it was indeed a hard thing for a human to do. Dean didn't have to tell him twice, Sam moved quickly to his knees, though he leaned down first, cupping both sides of Dean's face, he dropped a soft kiss on Dean's lips before letting go and straightening.

Also on his knees, but sitting on his heels, Dean put his arms around Sam's powerful thighs, pulling him close. Looking up at Sam, he licked the length of his erect penis, then repeated, moving slowly to its underside, one hand slipping around to help position Sam. He licked him again, smacking his lips, smiling when he felt Sam's cock nudge at his mouth. "Impatient?" He chuckled, then opened his mouth, and sucked Sam's crown, pulling off, then doing it again, getting used to having his girth in his mouth.

Sam stood knelt with his hands fisted at his sides to keep himself from demanding more than Dean was ready to give, his cock aching, his teeth throbbing, the blood pounding in his temples, the sound of Dean's heartbeats, his blood, filling his ears. "Yes," Sam breathed out the answer, letting his head fall back. Sam gasped in a breath at the feel of Dean's mouth on this cock, his muscles tensing a low moan tearing from his throat.

Dean pushed in, taking in half of Sam's cock and moving up and down, applying as much sucking pressure as he could. With his hand, he worked the base of Sam's cock, eventually finding a rhythm he thought would seamlessly feel as if he had all of Sam inside his mouth.

Sam started to move his hips, hands going to Dean's hair, threading through the strands as moans and growls sounded deep in his throat. Soon he was fucking Dean's mouth relentlessly, snarls falling from his lips, his hands sliding to Dean's shoulders as he gasped in breaths, elongated fangs showing as Sam's head tilted back, lips parted.

The sounds that Sam made heightened Dean's awareness, his lust... need. Was he fooling himself? Was he pretending it happened the way Sam described... like they met at some bar and he was seduced? Maybe. Maybe not, maybe he just needed this for whatever reason. He didn't think it was love, but he knew it wasn't hate. He wouldn't be trying so hard otherwise.

When he worked Sam so hard he felt the vampire's fingers digging too hard into his shoulder, he pulled off and rose to his knees, hands moving around Sam's waist, pulling him close as he moved against him and sought his mouth. "More _stuff_ , show me."

Sam lifted his head and looked at Dean for a moment, before moving quickly to pick him up, front to front and carried him out of the tub, back into the bedroom as he slanted his mouth over Dean's quieting any protests he might have.

Laying Dean down on the lounge, Sam carefully lowered himself on top of him, holding his weight off with one arm as he used the other to run over Dean's wet flesh. Tearing his lips from Dean's Sam slowly started to kiss a path down Dean's body. His neck, collar bone, chest, licking a nipple then nipping gently, pulling the hard bud into his mouth and sucking before releasing and moving to it's twin to do the same, then lower, over tight firm washboard abs, dipping his tongue into his belly button.

It took everything he had for Dean to hold still and watch Sam move down his body. Steam rose off his flesh and off Sam's, water dripped from Sam's hair, onto his chest, then lower, the cooled down liquid contrasting with the heat of his skin. He groaned at the things Sam was doing to him with his mouth, with his tongue. "Oh God... Sam..." his head moved from side to side.

"If we had met in a bar, I would drink something exotic from here." Sam said softly, before continuing lower, kissing Dean's hip bones and down, his inner thighs licking a path up to his balls then drawing away, only to repeat the process on the opposite leg

"You got teQUILA?" his voice rose to a shout as Sam's tongue touched is balls. His hands immediately went to Sam's shoulders, gripping him, his arms, his neck, everywhere he could find to touch. "I didn't know you dri... oh God... drink." His eyes rolled back into his head as he lifted his hips. "Want to feel you." He realized that feeling Sam's erection gave him a sense of power, and told him much about the vampire's restraint. "On top of me... please..." he tugged at Sam.

Sam looked up from under his brows at Dean, slowly pulling his mouth away from his groin, giving Dean's balls one last long lick of his tongue as he did, raising up on his hands and knees to crawl up Dean's body. "No, I don't have any, but I would have drank it from you if you wanted me to. Would do anything for you," he made a slight face realizing what he had said and hating himself for the fact that he would make himself into a liar if Dean asked to be set free.

"I think I'd be the one licking the tequila... I actually like the stuff," Dean whispered, a momentary hesitation running through him, before he turned over under Sam, face sideways on the pillow, his heart out of control as he waited for Sam to lower down over him.

Sam hesitated a moment before moving to lower himself down, blanketing himself over Dean, his hard cock against the cleft of Dean's ass. Sam groaned, his eyes closing as he kept his upper body weight off Dean, hands flat against the lounge, head hanging. "Oh God...." He wiggled his hips slightly, sliding his cock against Dean's ass, throwing his head back as he did and hissing in air between his teeth. Sam pressed his lips together tightly, a soft whimper escaping him. "I - I can't do this without..." he shifted his weight to one arm, lifting the other, he gripped Dean's hip.

Dean opened his legs wider. He was scared, but other feelings were swamping him, strong ones. "Do that again... I want to feel you," he said, lifting his ass up, chasing Sam's arousal. It was so hard and heavy against him, he just knew Sam was hurting. "What... what do you need?" he asked, licking his lips and trying to look at him over his shoulder. "Need me to get up?" He started to rise up onto all fours.

Sam opened his eyes and lowered his head. Without another word, Sam placed a hand in the center of Dean's back pressing him back down before he pulled back to kneel between Dean's outstretched legs. Gripping his hips, Sam pulled Dean's ass up into the air, so he was on his knees, his front half lowered to the pillows. "Don't move." Sam told him softly, as he ran his hands back from Dean's hips, cupping his ass and gently parting him, before leaning in to press his tongue against Dean's tight hole.

He'd tensed at the warning, thinking pain was in store, but the unexpectedly soft wet touch had him making a sound of pleasure. "Again," Dean demanded, knowing he liked that a lot better than when Sam had invaded him with his fingers. Maybe it was just a lot less scary now, because it was his choice, and he wasn't tied... even if ropes made no difference when dealing with a vampire.

Sam licked over the tight pink skin slowly, then again, pressing a little harder this time, over and over, pressing harder each time until he had pressed inside. Curling his tongue, Sam licked him, his hands at Dean's ass, thumbs holding him open as he fucked Dean's ass with his tongue.

"Oh God... oh God, so good," he tried to lift up, but Sam was putting pressure on his ass and he was pretty much immobile. Gripping the edges of his pillow, he closed his eyes and went along for the ride. Wet heat invading his most private spot, sending waves of pleasure crashing though him, making him need... need more. He mumbled against the pillow, lifted his face up and repeated. "Never thought I could like something like this... it... unh.... more Sam... more," he reached out, his hand finding Sam's side, pulling at him.

Pulling his head back and his body up, Sam draped himself over Dean, his cock against his ass as the fingers of one hand, slowly delved into his slick opening, scissoring to open him wider. He tucked his face against Dean's neck, kissing him softly. "Just relax." he told him softly as he drew his hand away and gripped is own cock. Pulling back to just kneeling behind Dean, Sam lined the blunt tip of his cock with Dean's hole. "Tell me if you want me to stop, Dean." Sam told him softly, as he reached around him, gripping Dean's cock with his free hand as he pushed into him slowly.

Relax. Sure. It had been easy to relax when it was his soft tongue at his hole, but when Sam replaced it with his fingers... a less than happy sound came from Dean. He took a breath, tried to listen to Sam's voice, to concentrate on the feel of his mouth on his neck, and then Sam's cock was at his hole and he had to stop thinking about how big he was. At Sam's urging, he lifted his ass higher, and then Sam's hand was closing around him.

Intense heat went through him at Sam's touch. It was so fucking strong, he almost forgot Sam was behind him. Then his body felt like it was being torn apart. His head jerked back, teeth clenched tight, his breath knocked out of him. Fuck... it hurt. "Hold..." Oh God, he didn't know how to relax around Sam, but he was trying, he was fucking trying.

Sam paused, moving his hand to run it down Dean's back, rub slow circles at the base of his spine as he leaned down slightly and started to pump Dean's cock. "It's okay, just relax. I'll go slow." Sam told him as he pressed in just a little more and stopped. Again his hand on Dean's back rubbing small circles, his hand on Dean's cock moving in slow smooth strokes.

It took everything he had to just stay there... to not demand they try something else. Biting down on his lower lip, Dean closed his eyes and concentrated on the slow massage to his lower back, and then Sam's hand was moving up and down, making him go hard all over again, making him want to fuck Sam's fist... which told him exactly how Sam was feeling right now. Experimentally, he pushed back a little, screwing his eyes shut even tighter at the burn. "Screw it... just do it, Sam... get it over with... fuck me," he said, pushing back almost violently hard, sure that once Sam was inside him, he'd start feeling that strange sensation Sam's finger had elicited deep inside him. "Go ahead... do it."

Sam's hand against Dean's ass stopped Dean from pushing back too hard, too fast. "Oh God, Dean... " Sam groaned, "Please," he licked his lips eyes closing, "So fucking tight and hot and sweet that I want so bad to just ... to ram into you, but you can't do that," Sam shook his head, "I won't hurt you. Stay still," he ordered, slowly pushing a little deeper, the hand that had been on Dean's back, moving to circle around him, caress over his chest and abs as his other hand worked his cock. Halfway, Sam was half way there. He blew out a breath, his forehead against Dean't back as he groaned softly.

He stilled but it was agonizing. He wanted, needed to fuck Sam's hand, wanted to lean into his touches, wanted to know what it would be like once Sam was inside him all the way. Throwing his head back, touching Sam's forehead, he tried desperately to calm himself. It was impossible. He was burning with need and willing to accept the pain. "Sam... fuck me," he looked down and started to press back against Sam. "Fuck me... fuck me... fuck me... "Fuck!" Each demand was guttural, urgent, geared to make the vampire comply.

Sam grit his teeth and pushed in further, then more until he was balls deep inside Dean, holding still and waiting for him to adjust to his cock lodged deep inside him. "Don't, Sam gasped, "Don't move." Sam buried his face against Dean's neck, his breaths panting out against sensitive flesh.

There was pain, but Dean grit his teeth and kept himself from giving voice to it. God... he was shaking a little, squeezing his eyes closed, just breathing... trying to get used to the feel of Sam's thickness inside him. The burn slowly dulled to an ache, and then it was Sam's hand on his cock that was making him feel good all over again. Dean started to thrust lightly, then a little more, testing... getting slowly worked back up. "Okay... okay Sam, I'm okay," he said, hips moving involuntarily.

"Sweet God, you feel so good, Dean. So hot, so tight." Sam moaned, "better than I ever imagined." Slowly Sam pulled his hips back, nearly pulling out of Dean, then slammed back in a loud low groan escaping him as he threw his head back.

Dean was pushed forward and left gasping for air. He saw white lights flashing behind his eyelids. The heat was incredible, outweighing any pain. "Oh God..." He started to fuck, thrusting into Sam's fist and pushing back against his cock, and then Sam's cock was pressing and brushing that spot that seemed to drive him crazy. "Right there... right there, please... right there," he pleaded, moving with Sam, trying to find the right pace.

Sam started to move with Dean, setting a rythm as he thrust into him and pumped his cock at the same pace. Rolling his hips, Sam dragged over the bundle of nerves and re-angled so that he hit it on each thrust. His free hand slid up Dean's side, cupped the side of his face to turn his head toward him so Sam could kiss him. Tongues tangled even before lips met messily. Tearing his mouth away when Dean ran out of breath, Sam rested his forehead against Dean's shoulder. "Oh my god, so good, baby. Aaugh!" he sucked in a breath through gritted aching teeth, the blood pounding in his temples so hard it was nearly maddening. "Want your blood. Wanna drink from you," he gasped and groaned as his hips rammed his cock harder into Dean. "Please..."

Moving together in perfect sync, so hot, so hard, so fucking good, Dean urged Sam on. Every part of him was stimulated, burning, needing. Every touch set new fires, made him burn out of control. When he thought it could not get more intense, Sam asked for blood. So wrong. So taboo. So impossible. But the need, the desperation, the urgency in Sam's voice as he pleaded, almost drove Dean over the edge. "No," he whispered, his voice lust roughened, so needy. He pushed back, pushed up, hard enough that Sam let him up, so he was practically sitting on Sam's lap, riding his cock. "No," he said again, less surely, a he turned his head and looked into dark eyes filled with desire. "No... please..."

But he was rubbing his throat against Sam's mouth now, needing, wanting something more... knowing they had only scratched the surface. "Please."

Sam closed his eyes and groaned low, a near growl against Dean's throat before his tongue snaked out to lick the skin over Dean's jugular. Sam moaned, and drew in a shakey breath, "Need it, ache for it..." he whispered softly, his hips thrusting his cock up into Dean harder, faster, as his hand on is cock moved in time to his hips. Sam's free arm wrapped around Dean's waist, holding him immobile. "Oh God, please..." his fangs scraped over sensitive flesh as his tongue made slow circles over the artery.

Throwing an arm behind him, Dean hooked his hand behind Sam's head, moaning as Sam's words crashed over him. His pulse literally jumped under Sam's tongue, like his vein was asking to be opened, to give in to Sam. Did he trust him... no, the right question was 'should he trust him?' Why did he? Why did he want to please him when hours ago he'd wanted to to hurt him, and days ago he'd wanted to kill him? How had the vampire gotten so deep under his skin? How had he made him his play thing? Was he winding him up like a toy?

Doubts competed and clashed inside him. In the end, all he knew was that he wanted whatever Sam wanted. "Okay... okay... do it..." he breathed, his hand coming over Sam's as they both moved over his cock, a strangled sound leaving his throat as he neared his climax. "Hurry..."

Sam groaned, a soft sound, a whimper broke from him, as he fought the urge to sink his fangs in and instead safely and gently used the razor sharp edge of a fang to scratch Dean's neck. The cut was deep enough that a small river of scarlet started to weep down Dean's neck, before Sam's mouth latched on, sucking for all he was worth, his tongue running over the cut in erotic twists and flicks as he sucked and drank, his hips rocking harder, slamming into Dean erratically, low moans and groans sounding deep in Sam's throat.

He barely felt the nick, but his entire body reacted the instant Sam's mouth was over the wound. His blood warmed, thickened... welled up like a gift to the vampire. Every drag of Sam's tongue across his wound amplified the pleasure coursing though him as they fucked hard and fast. Shuddering, he gripped Sam's head closer, moving with him, calling his name, getting dragged deeper and deeper into the erotic web spun by Sam's claiming.

Sam's arm around Dean's waist tightened as his balls drew up, his thrusts even harder now, his hand working Dean's cock hard, squeezing and pumping. And then Sam was crying out against Dean's neck as he came, his hot spunk filling Dean.

"Oh God... oh God Sammy... oh God... oh fuck!" Dean arched, his back stiffening as blinding heat exploded deep inside him. "Baby... so good..." he croaked, ropes of cum spilling between both their fingers as they continued to move their hands up and down his now almost too sensitive shaft. "Oh God..." He'd thought it was over, but the sensation of coming continued, on and on, every muscle in his body tensing, so fucking taut it almost hurt as waves of heat crashed over him, and with every motion of his mouth against his cut, Sam kept him coming.

Sam drank as long and as much as he dared, the sweet coppery taste of Dean's blood was addictive, like a drug. His human tasted of pain, of sorrow, of happiness of sunshine and rain, of bravery and goodness and all of it, every swallow of his thick rich blood only made Sam love him more. Pulling his head away, his mouth from the cut on Dean's neck, Sam licked his lips, bending his head again to place a soft kiss against the tender flesh. "I love you."

Exhausted by the time Sam pulled his mouth away, Dean sagged back against him. That warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach, that wasn't real. That's what he told himself. "No you don't," turning his head, he kissed Sam. "You like the way I look. Maybe how I sound." He kissed him again, this time deeply, tasting him. "How I taste. The rest... it's in your mind. You don't know me." There was a tinge of regret in his voice. "I wish--" Wishes were for fools. He lifted up and twisted around, putting his arms around Sam. "It's not always about love, Sam, and that's okay." Yeah, or he'd never get laid. Melding his mouth to the vampire's, he allowed himself to forget once again, where he was, and under what circumstances.

Sam opened his mouth to argue the point, to tell Dean that he did indeed love him, that this was what it had all been about, at least for him anyway, but then Dean was turning and kissing him and Sam simply wrapped his arms around his human and tried to put all that love into this one kiss, to make Dean see, to made him feel it. But some part of Sam knew Dean didn't, wouldn't, and it made his dead heart ache.

Enveloped in Sam's arms, for one crazy moment in time, Dean wished his life was different. That he'd met Sam when he was young. That they'd fallen in love. That this kiss would last forever.


	6. Chapter 6

One day later, Sam had to go hunt ... feed. Apparently he needed to feed more often than usual in order to prevent himself from being tempted to take all of Dean's blood. He also kept his word, didn’t send Dean to the basement.

So here Dean was, stuck in Sam’s room. It was a hundred times better than being in the basement, at least it was comfortable, and he could watch t.v. and he wasn’t damp or freezing. But he was cuffed… one of his hands to the bed post. If it weren’t for that, he might be able to fool himself and think he was a guest, a friend… a lover, but the cold metal reminded him of the truth.

The _truth_ was that Sam might think he loved him, but he was obsessed with him. And when things were going okay between them, when Dean wasn’t fighting him, Sam was the nicest guy. But Dean knew, he could see it in Sam’s eyes, that Sam was never going to let him go… let him be free. And that… that was unacceptable to one Dean Winchester.

Equally obsessed with finding his freedom, Dean used a heavy bookend to scrape at the wood on the nightstand. He could have maybe smashed it, but he didn’t want Ros or any of the others to come investigate. He also had the t.v. on loud, hoping it covered some of the noise he was making. After a while, he was able to dig out a nice thick splinter… and that was it, he was free.

He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl that had been brought for him, then headed to the window. On the ledge, he turned around and glanced at the picture on the shelf. Dropping back down into the room, he quickly got the picture out of the frame, tucked it into his pocket, and shot out of the window and onto the tree branches.

Freedom… smelled good.

* * *

For days Sam had searched, and for days he'd found nothing. It confused the vampire. Dean was only human, how was it that he could hide himself so well?

When he'd come back from feeding, it had been close to twilight and he had been in a good mood. As he headed for his room, Sam had decided to allow Dean a little walk around out back, maybe they could even lay out under the stars. Instead, he'd found his room empty, the lock to the handcuff picked open and the cuff laying limp and empty. His room barren, just like his heart.

Sam had immediately left to search for Dean, and yet, there had been very little trace of his human. A broken branch here, a scent that could be followed for a few miles before the trail would end abruptly once more. Always just enough to lead Sam on, but it had yet to be enough to allow him to _find_ Dean. Damn the hunter.

It was night now, as Sam made his way through a dark motel parking lot, blending in with the shadows, his thoughts in turmoil as he moved, not really even paying much heed to his surroundings as he wondered where _his_ human could be.

*

Stepping out of his room, Dean left the door propped open and walked down the "L' shaped walkway to the vending machine. Digging into his pocket, he got out some change and dropped it into the machine. Bending over, he grabbed his soda and headed back, opening the can with one finger.

Sam's head jerked up as a familiar scent assaulted his senses, nostrils flaring as he took in a long deep breath. His eyes instantly darkened. His Onyx gaze trailed from Dean to the room he was heading to and back, a slow wicked smile curving Sam's lips. With vampiric speed, Sam shot across the parking lot and into the motel room, standing with his back to the wall behind the door, waiting.

When he reached his room, Dean took a look around the lot, his gaze lingering on his baby... man he was lucky his car hadn’t been towed or anything when he’d been the Cullens’ prisoner. Taking a drink, he walked inside, and started shutting the door.

Sam had meant to wait, to talk to Dean after he entered, to be calm, rational. Those had been his intentions, but as he stood there with Dean's scent crashing over him, the scent of _his_ human, his human who never should have left him, desires and emotions burned out of control inside him. Again, moving with vampiric speed, Sam stepped forward, knocking the door out of Dean's hand and closing it with his body, his arms wrapping around Dean like steel bands, pinning Dean's arms to his sides.

Sam turned them, nearly throwing Dean onto the bed, his own body crashing down on top of him. "Guess who."

Dean gave a shout, and was unable to reach for a weapon or anything before he found himself face first on the bed. "Sonova...,” his breath came out in woosh as Sam’s weight initially crushed him. His heart started pounding against his chest as he struggled to break free and turn around. “Sam. Let me go...” He couldn’t gauge the vampire's anger without seeing his face. _It’s not Ros_ , he told himself.

Sam dipped his head down, his face against Dean's neck, and drew in a deep breath before his mouth raised just slightly to Dean's ear. "Mine," he growled out, voice low, deadly, dangerous.

One of Sam's hands moved, sliding further down Dean's body, his arms still around him, pinning Dean with weight and strength, even as he raised his own ass up into the air so he could have room to work open the button and zipper of Dean's jeans. Nimble digits and vampiric speed made quick work of the task and then Sam's hand was sliding down, under the denim and cotton to palm Dean's cock in his hand.

Dean bit his lower lip, cutting off the curses threatening to spill. Fuck... Sam had his hand inside his pants, and though he was getting hard, he didn’t want this, not like this. “Let me up, Sam... talk... let me turn around, Goddammit.” He struggled uselessly, then stopped. “Please... please...,” he groaned. Fuck.

Sam's large hand closed around Dean's shaft tightly, slowly starting to move as he licked the shell of Dean's ear. "Shouldn't have left me," Sam growled softly. "Didn't want you to go." Sam moaned softly, eyes closing as he felt Dean's body respond to his touch. "Not gonna let you go again, Dean. You're mine," he whispered, breath ghosting over Dean's ear.

From the way he was speaking to him, Dean was reminded of how Sam had been that one time... the way he’d worked himself up and demanded his shirt, sniffing it as he came. “Sam... I’m not... I’m not a blanket, I’m not my shirt, okay... I’ll give you my shirt if you want, but lemme... lemme turn.” He didn’t want to enjoy this, dammit... he didn’t like not being able to move.

A snarl tore from Sam's throat, "I don't want your fucking shirt!" He yelled, pulling back enough to roll Dean over, his hand sliding from under Dean's jeans as he did, then sliding back once he had Dean turned onto his back. Sam's weight once more trapping the hunter against the bed, Sam glared angrily down into jade hued irises, his own eyes fathomless pools of blackness. His parted, fangs showing as he stared unflinching, unblinking, the corner of his lips slowly curling upward. "You got to roll over."

Dean’s heart was still thumping hard from the start he’d gotten when Sam yelled. Now he was all soft spoken again, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. His dark eyes spelled ‘danger.’ Sliding his hand down to grip Sam’s wrist, he tried to tug on it. “I might as well be my shirt... you’re treating me like a _thing_ Sam. Please stop... don’t make me hate you... this... don’t...” he half demanded, half pleaded.

"Don't you already?" Sam asked him, dipping his head down to brush his lips against Dean's jaw, "you already hate me, so why shouldn't I just take what I want?" he asked softly, tongue darting out to lick at the tender flesh of Dean's throat with it's tip. "Give you a _reason_ to run away from me," he purred.

“No, I don’t hate you... but if you do this... damn you, Sam,” he tried to push him away. “You _know_ how I feel about being tied down, this is exactly the same. Stop it... stop it because _this_ isn’t _what_ you want.” When his words seemed to have no effect, Dean started to fight in earnest, slamming his forehead into Sam’s, shouting with pain and doing it again. He wasn’t not going to come-off to this, not.

Releasing Dean's now hard cock, Sam slipped his hand out of his jeans, grabbing both of Dean's wrists, pinning them down to the bed as he pulled his head back to glare down at him. Sam thrust against Dean, his own denim encased hard cock moving against Dean's as dark eyes stared into green. "I don't want this?" he asked him softly, one corner of his lips quirking up into a small wicked smirk. "Then what exactly _is it_ that I want, Dean?" he nodded, "Because I think this is _exactly_ what I want."

The rough material of Sam’s jean’s scraped against his sensitive skin, giving both pleasure and pain. “Sonova...” He hated that he was reacting, was responding. “You said mate... this is not mate... this is prey... this is objectifying... this is... sick... you hear me, Sam, sick. You stop this... or I will _never_ look at you like I’d started to,” he vowed, “this is _no better_ than Ros tying me to your bed.”

"Not look at me like you started to..." Sam gave a harsh laugh and nodded. "Good. You shouldn't. I'm not stupid and you won't use me again, Dean. Now I know the game, I know how you will play and I know your rules." His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Fine. I guess you were right after all. There is no love between us, just this," he ground his hips against Dean's, "but that's enough." He gave a small cold smile, "I believe those were your words."

“Not for me... not anymore.” He pushed... got angrier, and started to fight, to shout. The Cullens didn’t hurt humans, well he was going to put that to a test. He would bring the whole damned place down. “Get off, get off ... fucking get off me,” he bellowed, putting everything he had in his shouts, and trying to break the vampire’s hold, trying to hurt him.

Sam tightened his grip on Dean, held onto him as he yelled and fought uselessly, struggled and thrashed under him. He slid one of Dean's arms up toward the other, rearranging his hold so that he held both of Dean's wrists in one hand and reached over, grabbing the alarm clock off the night stand, his movements unrushed and calm, especially compared to Dean's near fit.

With a sigh, Sam shook his head as he gazed down at the hunter, just before using the alarm clock as a weapon, knocking Dean, in the side of the head and rendering him unconscious.

"Now who is easy?" Sam mumbled, slowly releasing Dean and pulling from the bed.

* * *

He was cold. It smelled damp... where the... Dean’s eyes snapped open and he found that his wrists were bound, and so were his ankles. Blinking, he realized he was back in the Cullen basement. This time he wasn’t only chained inside the cage, but spread-eagled on the hard ground. There was a blunt throbbing in his head, it reminded him of what happened.

Sam... Sam had hit him with something. Knocked him out. He swallowed over the lump in his throat. Why had he ever believed? If he hadn’t believed in Sam, in the things he thought, in the tales he’d told about not hurting humans, he’d have had a group of hunters up at his place the instant he’d gotten away. Instead, he’d decided to let the Cullens live in peace.

_Big mistake._

Small feet gracefully descended the stairs, coming to stop at the bottom before sliding to the side to walk toward the human inside the cage. Alice had a light carefree spring in her step. Crouching outside the cage her golden gaze searched Dean's face. "So you're with us finally?" she said, tilting her head to the side, a small smile curving her lips. "Sam asked me to come look in on you."

“Sorry to disappoint you, both of you. Still kicking,” he said, tasting bitterness in his mouth. They were back to this. All the way back to this.

Alice shrugged her slim shoulders, "Why would it disappoint me?" she pulled up to her full height, though her gaze remained on the hunter, "Doesn't disappoint Sam either, I'm sure." She smiled slightly wider before sighing softly, "You never should have left him, you know? Sam's... sensitive."

“Yeah... sensitive, my ass. If I had him locked up somewhere, what do you think _he’d_ do? Or you for that matter? Unless you’re some sort of sicko who likes to be in a nice cold dark prison. You’re all fucking crazy, fit to be tied crazy, you know that?” He wished he could wipe that fake smile off her face.

Alice's smile fell away as she narrowed her eyes. "We'd snap your neck before you ever got the chance," she told him matter-of-factly, though there was an edge of warning in her voice, a warning to not even try it. She smiled again, and licked her lips, her gaze running over him. "Do you need anything while I'm here? Sam's going out, he won't be back until probably very late," she told Dean, tilting her head to the side, "he has a date."

Though her words seemed casual, her golden gaze was intent on Dean's face, watching for any show of emotion, a declaration, listening for any change in his heart rhythm. If this hunter felt anything for her brother at all, she would know. Of course, her visions had said it would be so, but her visions were also always subject to change, a person's actions ... choices... could change the future that they had been heading towards, and Alice wondered if maybe Dean's running away might just have changed his future with Sam.

“Date,” he snorted. “Guess I’ll have company. Where’s the poor chump going to be tied up... not in here I hope.” So Sam did this regularly then, find a guy, make him feel like he was the center of his world... sick as it was... and then bam. He let his eyelids drop, not wanting her to see things.

Alice frowned, "Chump?" She giggled softly as she shook her head, "It's not a guy, it's some girl. I don't know... Renee, Rebbecca, Rachel," she shrugged, "something like that. It's too bad," she told Dean softly, not having heard or seen a change in him at all, "he really did love you. I thought it was going to work for you two." She hung her head, "I guess I was wrong." she said softly before turning and walking away, to the stairs and out.

Yeah... Sam loved him so much, he kept leaving him in the fucking basement, while he went off on his _dates._ As the hours passed, and he had nothing to do, Dean imagine this Rebbecca, Rachel, whatever the fuck her name was, getting it on with Sam. Maybe even in his room, on that settee. His eyebrows furrowed, anger knotted up his stomach, making him forget his hunger.

*

Sam walked down the stairs, still dressed as he had been for his date. Date. He huffed and rolled his eyes at the thought. Some date it was. He'd been so upset over Dean leaving and then after finding him, things hadn't gone much better, that he'd finally agreed to go out with the little red-head from the small five and dime store just passed the High School.

For nearly the past two years, she'd been flirting with him, although he had always _politely_ ignored it. But then, after everything, he'd asked her out. He'd taken her to dinner and the movies and then, when he'd intended to drop her off, she'd started to kiss him in the car, trying to get things heated up between them. Sadly, none of her advances got her far and he'd at last managed to get her to go in, excusing his lack of attentiveness on the grounds of being tired, when really it was that she was just simply _not_ the one he wanted. Plain and simple.

Reaching the last stair, Sam stepped off, the plastic food bag dangling from the fingers of one hand swinging as the other rose to his tie, trying to work it off. Already, the tie was nearly unfastened and horribly askew, compliments of the lovely Rachel.

Walking over to the cage, Sam looked inside, his gaze briefly on the hunter's face, before he turned, pacing away from him. "So, I hear you woke shortly before I had to leave."

Just when he thought he was going to go crazy from the sound of silence, and the clamoring of his own mind, Sam was there. Dean turned his head, watching him, taking in all the signs of, at the very least, a good back seat fuck. “How come she gets to be so lucky?” he asked thickly.

Sam turned, hand still struggling with getting the tie knot unfastened and doing poorly at it one handed, his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at Dean, "What?"

“You didn’t hit her over the head, did you?” Dean’s jaw pulsed. “She’s not chained up somewhere. You like her enough not to...” His gaze held Sam’s as he lifted his chained wrist, then dropped it, the metal rattling loudly.

Sam gave a small chuckle and tilted his head to the side, a smirk remaining. "Are you sure about that? Maybe I have another hiding place," he snickered, finally managing to get the tie unfastened and breathing a sigh of relief as he pulled the damned thing from around his neck. He looked back over at Dean,." _She_ isn't a hunter, she works at some small store up the road and _she_ isn't a threat to me or my family... not going to give away any of our dental secrets," he smiled, revealing fangs purposefully, then letting his smile fall away as he shrugged. "And I didn't want her," he added softly, dropping his gaze.

“Bullshit. You go out with people you don’t want? Guess you fucked her against your will too.” Lips pressed into a straight line, his expression hard, Dean added. “How was I a threat? If I’d wanted to... if I'd been a threat, this house would be crawling with hunters now, and you fucking know it.”

Sam stared at him a long moment, unflinching, unmoving, save for the muscle twitching in his jaw. "I went out with her because she has been asking for two years and I was in a piss poor mood and agreed finally," Sam answered, eyes narrowing. "I guess she's lucky you pissed me off." He tilted his head to the side. "What makes you think we had sex? Can you smell her on me?" He quirked a brow.

Turning, he walked over to a small folding chair and carried it back, taking a seat and placing the bag of food on the floor next to him. Sam's gaze returned to Dean's then as he nodded, "And you were a threat, that was why we caught you to begin with," he took in a breath and let it out slowly, "and you _used me_ to get away," he shrugged a shoulder, "no, you didn't send anyone here, but I had to get you back anyway. I meant what I said to you before and because of that I can't, I _won't_ let you go."

“I didn’t _use_ you Sam, I took an opportunity. Same as you would have done.” He didn’t flinch from Sam’s gaze, but he sucked in his breath at its intensity, understanding what Sam was referring to. “This isn’t love, Sam. Look at me...” he raised his chained arm again, tried to touch his head where he’d been injured, then dropped it. He licked his lips. “You know... you’re the _only_ person I ever thought I maybe could love.” Seeing the disbelief in Sam’s eyes, he shook his head. “I was wrong anyway.” His stomach growled, but he refused to look at the bag Sam had brought.

Sam huffed, "Sure, you thought you could love me _so much_ that you took the opportunity to use my love for you against me and run away. That's _real_ loving," he mumbled, leaning over to grab the bag from the floor, having heard Dean's stomach growl.

Pulling back to sit straight in the chair, Sam's gaze returned to Dean's. "I brought you some food," he said, reaching in to pull out the styrofoam container. "It's not much, just cheeseburger and fries." He glanced up at Dean as he popped the top of the styrofoam, tilting it just slightly to show Dean the contents, before closing it again. "I would have gotten something better, but by the time I got Rachel home... _and_ into her house, it was pretty late and most places were closing."

“Yeah I’m sure she was distracting... I mean who cares about the guy starving in the basement when you’re banging the girl from the five and dime.” He wished he hadn’t seen the burger, couldn’t smell it. The gnawing pain was back in his stomach. How long had he been here anyway?

He swallowed, refusing to beg. “Sam, tell me the truth. How long you gonna keep this up?”

"Actually, _you_ were all I thought about all night as I sat there listening to her ramble on about," Sam frowned and made a face, as he tried to remember exactly _what_ it was she had said, then waved a dismissive hand when he couldn't seem to recollect it. "And I didn't 'bang' the girl from the five and dime. As for your last question," Sam pressed his lips into a flat line, his gaze locking with Dean's, golden hazel slowly darkening, Sam allowing Dean to see it happen and not try to hide from him. "Well, since I _am_ a vampire, and I don't die... uh, I guess that answer would be, _eternity_."

There was a weird sensation in the pit of Dean’s stomach, half elation, half hard stone falling. So much for hoping that he’d be set free after whoever Sam was afraid of showed up. He hadn’t quite understood what Sam meant, like they’d be out to kill Dean, and might succeed. “I won’t even be allowed to fight the dudes that are supposedly showing up? Or were you lying about that?” His voice lowered to a whisper.

"I've never _lied_ to you." Sam told him, his gaze still intent on Dean's.

He didn't say anything more about what Dean asked, wasn't so sure just _how_ that was going to go down. He had hoped that by the time the Voltari arrived Dean would love him and there would be no need for any fight. He'd hoped that Dean would be his, that he'd love him enough to want to be a vamp... well, it didn't really matter anymore what he had hoped. _This_ was the best he was going to get from Dean, a few forced kisses, perhaps some more _emotionless_ touches if he allowed the hunter to believe he was fooling him, tricking him again, but nothing more than that.

“Neither did I.” Dean sniffed. “I never promised I’d stay chained to a fucking bed. You want a pet... a dog... get one.” Maybe he was trying to antagonize Sam a little, maybe it would get these damned chains off him. He couldn’t stand them. He couldn’t stand the look in Sam’s eyes either, like he was the one who’d been kicked in the gut.

Sam tore his gaze from Dean's face, looking down at the styrofoam container. "The cuffs were an unfortunate necessity," he looked up, dark eyes again locking with jade. "Perhaps if you were trustworthy...," Sam let the sentence trail off, a small cold smile slowly pulling on his lips, "but we both know how that turned out, don't we?"

Sam looked down, thumb tapping idly on the lid of the meal he'd brought. "Doesn't matter," he tossed out after a lengthy pause. "Alice was wrong and I allowed myself to foolishly believe in something that can never be." He looked up at Dean, "I know that now," he said with a small nod, "so here you are and here you will stay."

“You really don’t get that tying up a person would make them want to run? Really Sam?” Dean fell silent, looking at the food in the vampire’s hand. This was probably punishment. He shifted his body as much as he could on the hard floor, making a slight pained noise. Sonovabitch... his eyes flared with the heat of anger when he looked back at Sam.

Sam eyed Dean, "You weren't ' _tied up_ ', you were cuffed, one hand to the lounge in my room... for safe keeping. Not _bound_ ," he waved a hand out toward Dean, " _this_ is bound."

Dean gave a bitter laugh at the ridiculous distinction. “Whatever.” His fingers curled around the chains, and he refused to look away.

"So," Sam spoke softly, gaze intent on Dean's, "are you hungry?"

He jerked his chained wrist up. “What... you gonna feed me?” There was nothing but hard resentment in his eyes. “Or maybe you’d like to me see eating like an animal, that it? That your game now, Sam... now you’ve got yourself a pet.”

Sam sighed and pulled from the chair to his full height, the bag of food dangling from the fingers of one hand. "I was actually thinking of freeing you so that you could eat," he shrugged a shoulder, "but since you would rather act like a two year old, maybe I can get Ros to put this in a blender for you," he said, eyes narrowing angrily.

Maybe he should just starve himself. But no, that wasn’t his style. “So free me. I’d like to eat.” He forced the word out. “Please.” He swallowed. “I’m hungry,” he nodded. “Starved.” The thought of getting the shackles off was also right up there with his need for food. Higher even, but he wasn't gonna give that away.

Sam gave a curt nod, muscle in his jaw twitching. "Fine," he told him, taking a step toward the cage then pausing, his head tilting to the side, "And what will you give me for it?"

“Give?” Dean laughed. “I’m fucking tied up. You take what you want... you’re the one who said I can’t stop you anyway. Just let me eat, do what you fucking want... what does it matter?” His nostrils flared as he remembered Sam’s weight pressing down on him, his inability to get out from under him, and then the sharp pain and how everything had gone black.

Sam stepped closer, free hand rising to curl his fingers around the bars of the cage as he looked in. "Maybe I want you to _give_ it and not have to _take_ ," he suggested softly.

“Isn’t that what I told you... at the motel?” Dean sniffed, and looked back up. “What do you want me to give you, Sam?”

Sam tore his gaze from Dean's, looking down at the bag of food hanging from his hand. _Maybe you were right, but I was mad and you hurt me. Left me._ Slowly he looked back up at Dean and shook his head, "What are you willing to give me for it?" he asked again, releasing the bars and stepping around to the door of the cage, sliding a hand into his pocket and pulling out the key.

Unlocking the door, Sam pulled it open, his gaze intent on Dean's face, "I'm waiting."

He couldn’t tell what it would take. He never could. “Why don’t you give me your wish list?” Course not, because that would be too easy. Damn him. “Take my shirt... or shirts.” He had his jacket on, it could protect him from the cold. One look into those dark eyes, now closer since Sam was standing almost over him, Dean knew it wasn’t enough. “Touch me under my shirt, or I’ll touch you under yours.”

Sam gazed down at him for a long moment not answering, listening to the sound of his blood rushing through his veins, the beats of his heart while Sam's fangs ached, the blood pounding in his temples, telling him to take what he wanted and be done with it. Wasn't as if Dean was going to hate him any less for not following through on his needs.

Sam licked his lips slowly, his gaze darting to and holding on Dean's full lips for a moment, before Sam slowly looked back up into his eyes. "You touch me, under my clothes, for as long as I say," Sam offered softly, voice huskier than it had been a moment before.

Dean's mouth burned, as if Sam’s gaze had been a caress. He gave a curt nod of agreement. “With just my hands.” He wasn’t gonna be tricked anymore. “After I eat.”

Sam gave a small nod, before he crouched down, setting the bag of food on the floor nearby, he reached for the cuffs, the key still palmed in his hand. His fingertips danced across the side of Dean's hand as he reached for his wrist to unlock the cuff, he did the same with the other, making sure that he touched Dean much more than necessary, though they were light touches, seemingly innocent brushes of fingertips.

Both wrists released, Sam slid the bag of food closer to Dean, then moved back to sit flat on the floor just out of Dean's reach. "M'not unfastening your ankles. You can eat with them _tied_." Sam told him softly, his gaze slowly running over Dean.

Dean didn’t answer, but quickly grabbed the bag. He tried to concentrate on the smell of the food, on the fact that in a moment, he’d get rid of the gnawing in his belly. But what was he supposed to do with the way his skin burned whenever Sam touched him. He didn’t want to feel like that, not for his fucking captor, so why did he?

As he took the first bite of his burger and gave an involuntary “mmm,” licking his lips clean of the ketchup that had dripped, he thought on it some more. Maybe it was because they’d fucked, and he’d liked it. Maybe it was because when he’d left here, he’d been ninety percent certain he’d never be as satisfied as he had in Sam’s bed. And that ten percent... well he’d thought he’d give Sam a call some time, maybe after a few months.

He stole a glance at the vampire. As always, Sam’s eyes were trained on him. Probably waiting for him to ‘pay’ for his food already. Picking up his drink, Dean sucked on the straw, swallowing great big gulps of the liquid. He wasn’t gonna think on how things could have been different, that _other future_ was out the window. This was how Sam wanted it, and it just made them enemies. That was all. Now all he had to do was convince his body of it too.

No words were exchanged as he finished eating and wiped his hands, putting all the trash back into the paper bag. He took another sip of his drink, then pushed it to his side, not wanting to give it up until he was done with it. Without waiting for an order, he crawled closer to Sam, where he could touch him, then lifted his gaze waiting for his instructions.

Sam's gaze rose to Dean's as he crawled over, but he didn't move, didn't speak, all the while the hunter had been eating all Sam could think about was the way Dean had felt in his arms, under him, surrounding him. The soft sounds he'd made, along with his demands of course. _Harder, faster, fuck me..._ The fact that it had all been an act, it had all been simply to gain his freedom, burned a knot in Sam's chest.

Used him, that's all Dean had done. It made perfect sense now why when he had made his declaration of love that Dean had told him, 'no', that he was wrong, because the hunter felt nothing for him. To Dean, he was just another _thing_ , easily used and tossed aside once he had managed to get Sam to let his guard down. Sure, Dean had been cuffed to the lounge, but it wasn't as though he'd been bound tight or in a cage.

Sam licked his lips and took in a deep breath before sliding closer to Dean. "Remember the trade, Sam told him softly, "touch me as long as I want." He repeated the deal, as he reached a hand out, long fingers wrapping around Dean's wrist as he pulled his hand to him, placing it against his crotch. Sam was already hard under the thin material of his dress pants, hard and aching for his human. As the heat and weight of Dean's hand met his groin, Sam gave a low soft moan, his eyes slipping closed.

Straight to business, he should have expected it. Sitting next to Sam, Dean had to lean part way across his body, swallowing at the feel of the hard knot under his palm. Sam’s fingers were tight around his wrist, like he expected him to pull away or something. And his moan at Dean’s slightest touch sent nervous energy skittering along Dean’s nerves. _This_ wasn’t an act. He knew Sam needed this. Maybe his little bitch really hadn’t taken care of him.

Dean pressed very lightly, palm sliding against material and the metal teeth of a zipper. He wasn’t gonna give Sam anything, anything he didn’t ask for, anything he didn’t demand, anything he hadn’t ‘bought.’ And yet his own heart rate kicked up a notch when Sam shifted, when his expression turned to pure agony.

Sam hung his head, switched the hand that held Dean's wrist and used his right hand to work open the clasp and zipper of his dress pants. Picking his head up, passion burning in his dark stare, Sam pulled Dean's hand up and shoved it down the front of his pants, under his dress slacks and boxers, forcing his hand against bare flesh, to palm his cock.

Sam's hips bucked, a groan spilling from his parted lips as he leaned his head in as though he were going to kiss Dean, only to stop, his forehead against Dean's, breaths panting out between parted lips, fanning Dean's face.

Holy fuck... how could Sam’s reactions be making him get this hard? It was all wrong... wrong when Sam was forcing him, wrong when he should... _did_ hate Sam, and yet... as his hand slid over Sam’s hard flesh ... velvet covered steel... when he felt his breath on his face, it had Dean going harder. He struggled to keep his breathing under control, to turn his face slightly so it was clear there would be no kissing, and struggled not to close his hand around Sam’s cock. Instead, he let Sam push and pull his hand up and down his hard length, his stomach clenching each time Sam lifted his hips or gave a needy groan. He licked his lips... knew if Sam stuck his tongue out... fuck no.

The tip of Sam's tongue darted out to lick his lips as he looked at Dean's profile now that he had turned his head away from him. "Look at me," Sam told him huskily, "please." He swallowed, his hips bucking hard as he shoved Dean's hand down harder, slid it up and down his length, low moans and groans breaking from his throat. "Want to see your face," Sam told him softly, his own head leaning in slightly more, cheek pressing against Dean's as his eyes slowly closed on a low groaned growl.

Oh God... Sam felt so fucking hard... was pushing his hand around with such desperation, Dean almost forgot he wasn’t going to help. Almost touched him harder. Almost stroked him... squeezed him. It was too damned tempting, especially when his mind was assaulted by images of just that. Biting back a groan, Dean turned his face slightly, pulling back a little to watch Sam. The way Sam was masturbating against his hand, using him... the sounds he made... it was almost obscene... doubly obscene that Dean’s blood was on fire.

Sam pulled his head back to look at Dean's face, his eyelids passion heavy, lips parted as his breaths panted out. "Can't stop thinking about you in my bed, under me, around me, clenching around ...me so _fucking_ hard." Sam bit his lip, head tilting back as he groaned, lip sliding from between his teeth, he groaned and bucked, rubbing Dean's hand along his length harder, erratically.

Dean clenched his ass, the pictures Sam painted in his mind so fucking vivid, he was right there... in bed, under him, milking Sam's cock of everything he could give him. A soft sound broke from his throat. His hand shook slightly under Sam’s hand, as the vampire started to push harder, like he was trying to come right now. Needed it.

At once Sam tensed, teeth gritting together a low growl erupting from deep in his throat as he came hard against Dean's hand in his pants.

Dean’s breaths were labored, like he’d just run a marathon or had sex. He tried to pull his cum slicked hand away, but found it was still trapped against Sam’s dick. He waited the space of a few heart beats. “Why me?” Licking his lips, he hid his face in Sam’s neck, barely touching him. “Why isn’t _she_ or someone else enough?”

Sam breathed in deeply, getting his breathing under control, telling himself to calm down, to not ask for more, _take_ more, his eyes closed he lowered his head until it hung. _Because I don't love them._ He turned his head slightly, pressing his lips against the side of Dean's head, kissing him softly and pausing there a moment before he pulled his head back and Dean's hand out of his pants. He reached for the bag of garbage and got the extra napkins.

Dean jerked away, afraid Sam would kiss him on the mouth next. Cause that was not happening... not ever, he vowed to himself, thought his lips burned, his mind burned with the question of how it might have felt. And maybe there was another question rambling inside his head... like how would it have felt to fuck with just his legs restrained? Oh God... Sam’s craziness was fucking catching.

Pulling a few napkins out, Sam handed them to Dean before releasing Dean's wrist and reaching down to refasten his pants. "You can be angry with me about the kiss," Sam shrugged a shoulder as he pulled to is feet, "I know you will be," he said before walking out of the cage and closing the door. He walked silently to the stairs and up, walking out of the basement, the door closing with a soft click behind him.

Crushing the napkins in his hand, Dean looked at his wrists... free of the bracelets, then up at the stairs that Sam had taken. Had he forgotten? Or was he listening to him... just a little? Or maybe he wasn’t able to think past the jacking off... and he’d be back or send someone else to do his dirty work.

Sitting back against the wall, Dean looked down at his palm. He could still feel Sam... rigid... wet... needy. Lifting his hand, he licked his palm, closed his eyes and leaned his head back, banging it against the wall. _Crazy... I'm just as crazy as he is._


	7. Chapter 7

The next few days melted into each other. Sam would come down a few times during the day and night, sometimes just to watch him for hours. The yearning, the sheer need in those expressive eyes of his was unnerving. Dean would like to say he found it annoying, but a part of him felt strangely alive and excited because of it. Sure he’d had a lot of women admire him, but this... it was hard to explain... it went beyond sheer lust, it made him feel like he could be the center of Sam’s world.

Course there were other times, other expressions and looks, the bitterness at having been abandoned. Dean stopped trying to explain... it wasn’t getting through. In one of his morning trips to the bathroom for a shower, Alice had explained a little. Said that vampire’s were obsessive creatures. Just like they could be obsessed with blood, Sam was obsessed with his mate.

Dean had snorted, said he wasn’t anyone’s fucking mate, but the way she looked through him made him wonder what she saw. Anyway, pretty soon some vampire police or whatever was going to come after Dean. He knew because the family had reported him, they were responsible for making sure he was here when they arrived. But Alice claimed this... this imprisonment was a way of keeping him safe...making sure Sam was around when they arrived. He wasn’t sure he really bought it, especially since they all thought a show down would only lead to his death, and Sam's. He also knew Sam did mean what he said, that he would never let him go.

Sometimes this depressed Dean. Actually it depressed him all of the time, except when Sam came around. Whether they fought, or made deals, or touched... it was always better than the nothingness that came when Sam left. That first night, Sam had come back and brought pillows and blankets, and there had been no cost. Dean was surprised. The next day though, there had been deals over other things. Food orders... the ipod Dean had previously made a deal for... coffee.

One thing Dean refused to give up in a deal was his lips. No matter what Sam offered him, no matter how frustrated he got, Dean refused to kiss him. Kissing was too personal... he’d come to trust Sam a little, had come to like him, maybe even to love him a little, then the motel thing happened. Sam felt betrayed? Well so did Dean.

He might not kiss Sam in those moments when he let him touch, or when he touched Sam. He’d given him a blow job too, it had given him satisfaction ... torturing the hell out of the vampire before he had come in his face. Course when he slept, Dean dreamt not only of freedom, but of Sam’s lips on his, mouths crushing, bodies pressing.

Now Sam had disappeared for a few days, and no one told him why he wasn’t coming. The food he got was crap. His ankle was bruised and crusted with blood because Ros had tightened the ankle cuffs too much and refused to listen to his complaints. So there he was, starving, staring at a plate of raw meatballs... and cursing Sam in his head for leaving him alone.

Sam was half smiling as he made his way down the basement steps, the key to Dean's car palmed in one large hand so Dean couldn't see it.

Reaching the last step, Sam looked toward the cell and cocked his head to the side. "So, looks like I did you a favor bashing you on the head and bringing you here." Sam told him matter-of-factly as he walked over to stand at the bars of the cage, one hand wrapping around the cold metal as he looked in at Dean.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Dean’s tone was almost surly, but he got up and approached the bars, could just reach them with the ankle chains on. Standing slightly to Sam’s side, his own hands curled around the bars and looking out, his eyes searched Sam’s face. “Go away for a dirty weekend with your girl Rachel and forget to tell the help?” Ros had implied it that’s where Sam had gone.

Sam frowned in puzzlement as to where that had come from, shaking his head as though to clear it. Obviously Dean just felt like trying to argue, although he wasn't so sure _what_ it was he was trying to argue about.

"Uh, no actually. I was at that motel that I found you at," Sam smiled, stifling a chuckle. "Seems the place burned to the ground. There was nothing left for yards around it. Everything was leveled and burned to ash." Sam gave a nod, "So, see? You should thank me. _You_ could be burned to ash right about now."

“What?” Dean cocked his head, eyes widening, knuckles whitening on the bars. “My baby... my car... oh fuck no... my car...” he felt like he’d been sucker punched, could barely breathe. “It’s all I had ... Sam you sure?” He felt sick to his stomach, worse than he had when he first saw the raw meatballs they’d been trying to feed him.

Sam nodded, "Oh yeah, definitely sure. There was nothing left standing, man." He shook his head, "looked like a nuclear bomb went off." Sam's smile fell away as he tilted his head to the side, "Oh, your car? Aw, that's too bad." He gave an exaggerated sigh as he looked at Dean. "Kiss me and maybe it won't be so horrible," Sam suggested, stepping closer to the cage so that if he had a mind to, Dean could indeed do just that.

He didn’t know whether Sam was joking or not. The vampire probably didn’t get how much he loved that car, and that everything he had was in its trunk. He was gonna hyperventilate. No, he was gonna fucking faint. Leaning forward, he tried to explain. “You don’t understand... my car it’s...”

A lump rose in his throat. Unable to speak, he simple brushed his mouth against Sam’s through the bars. Once... twice... breaths panting out between each touch, and then he was kissing him, lips closing around Sam’s lower lip, sucking, pulling apart, and offering him his tongue. He started to slide downward, but their mouths kept meeting... Sam going down onto his knees as he followed.

Sam hadn't really expected Dean to take him up on the offer of a kiss, had figured Dean would bitch and moan about it once again, but then his lips were brushing against Sam's own. He would never admit it, but it was probably a good thing that Dean started to lower himself to the ground, Sam's own legs didn't feel so stable at this point, as they continued to kiss.

Dean’s mouth pulsed.... heat flooded his body. It was the perfect antidote to the pain in his heart. Slipping his hand through the bars, he cupped the side of Sam’s face and kissed him harder, his tongue delving deep inside the vampire’s mouth.

Sam moaned, uncurling his fingers, his lost his grip on the bar to stick his hand through and cup the back of Dean's neck as he kissed him back, running his tongue along side Dean's, tangling them together, running the tip of his tongue over the roof of Dean's mouth.

When they both stopped, Sam finally letting go from sucking Dean's bottom lip into his mouth at the end of the kiss, Sam smiled slightly, raising his free hand, letting the key to Dean's car dangle from his fingers. "Surprise, it's a miracle," Sam told him softly.

His breath still labored, Dean tried to understand what Sam was saying, then it hit him. “My car.... she’s okay... you got her.” Closing his hand around the keys, Dean pushed his face up against the bars again, this time kissing the corner of Sam’s mouth. “That was... mean.” But he was smiling, couldn’t fucking help it.

Sam smiled at him, but didn't move, his gaze intent on Dean for a long moment before he finally tore his gaze away and looked down, releasing the keys into Dean's hand. "No, not mean... teasing." He gave a soft half snicker half huff, before raising his gaze to Dean's face again and licking his lips. "How have you been while I was gone?" Sam asked him softly, his gaze searching Dean's face.

“Same as every time you’re gone.” He wasn’t going to list his woes, it was always the same... hungry, in slight pain, bored out of his fucking mind. “You went to ... get the car?” It explained why it might have taken days to get back, well at least a couple of the days. He slipped the keys into his jacket pocket, half afraid Sam would ask to take them back.

Sam nodded, then shrugged a shoulder, "Well, that was one of the reasons I was gone." He licked his lips as his gaze traveled over Dean, head to toe and back. "You're bleeding."

“She still doesn’t like me much. I asked if she’s a cross-dresser or something cause real girls usually like me.” That was after Ros refused to loosen the bracelet around his ankle. His gaze swept over Sam’s shirt, no jacket... nothing to hide any food he might have brought. He didn’t complain about that either, just the thought that his baby was fine made him happy.

"You're human," Sam explained with a shrug, "she doesn't like humans. To her it's bad enough Edward has one." Sam sighed and shook his head. "It's hard to explain." He pulled up to his full height and walked around the cage to the door. "Lemme see where you're bleeding. I didn't see it, I smelled it," he told Dean, before he could ask.

Unlocking the cage door, Sam stepped inside and crouched, "C'mere." he waved Dean over to him.

Dean shuffled over, his hands moving from one bar, to the next. He stood practically over Sam, and pulled his pant leg up. He was barefooted, and the deep cuts around his ankle, both bruised and crusted with dried and fresh blood, were visible. “Guess she _really_ wanted to make sure I don’t get away.”

Sam sighed, lifting his face to look up at Dean, brow raised. "And you did nothing to provoke this?" he asked, gently cupping Dean's ankle in his hands. "I'll get some soap, water and antibiotic salve." Sam muttered pulling to his full height, "seems we keep that stuff around here since meeting you," he mumbled, taking a step backward out of the cage. "I'll be right back."

"Let me come with you." He knew he was pushing it, but he had to get out of here. "I... I need to go to the bathroom." He licked his lips and stared Sam straight in the eyes.

Sam paused, tearing his gaze away from Dean's, hanging his head with a sigh. Slowly he raised his head, jaw tense, muscle there twitching as he looked intently at Dean's face, stared unflinchingly into his brilliant jade eyes. "Don't run from me."

The tension practically roiled off Sam. Dean nodded, then seeing it wouldn't be enough, added, "I won't."

Sam gave a small curt nod, stepping back into the cage, he crouched and unfasten the ankle cuffs, tossing them aside. Pulling back up to his full height, Sam looked into Dean's eyes, "Remember," he shook his head slowly, gaze never leaving Dean's eyes, "you won't like the outcome if you run." Taking a step to the side and out of Dean's way, Sam jutted his chin toward the stairs for Dean to lead the way.

Dean didn't think the reminder was necessary, and it definitely dampened any enthusiasm he'd felt because of his car sitch. His gaze glancing off Sam's, he walked to the stairs and was more than aware that Sam came up right behind him. As if he could outrun the vampire. "Why don't you just tie yourself to my ass," he muttered, under his breath.

Hearing Dean's muttered words, Sam reached out, wrapping an arm around him, pulling Dean back, flush against his body, his free hand sliding between them to cup an ass cheek. "Didn't think you wanted me anywhere near your ass anymore," he murmured softly as he dipped his head down, face against Dean's neck, breathing in his scent. "But that could be arranged if you want," Sam whispered before his tongue darted out to trail a line up the side of Dean's throat.

Closing his eyes, Dean stayed perfectly still. He knew his pulse was jumping under Sam's tongue, that his heart was beating faster. Right now, it really wasn't fear. He wished it was anger, but days on end of being tied up and left alone, it wore him down. "Maybe." He took a deep breath. "If that meant I go out when you do... you wouldn't get to be selectively tied to me when you're home. Maybe you'd see what it feels like." He turned his face, his mouth skimming over Sam's cheek, before he pulled away quickly.

Sam pulled his head back, letting his arm and hand fall away from Dean as he stepped past him on the steps. "And maybe if I took your car off somewhere, where you would never see it again, maybe _you'd_ get a glimpse of what it feels like," Sam shot back as he grabbed the shoulder of Dean's jacket, pulling him the rest of the way up the stairs with him.

A string of curses erupted from Dean who had to move quickly and then banged against Sam at the top of the stairs. He didn't have any smart retorts though, he just waited for Sam to open the door and they were walking the hallway. What he really wanted to do was look behind him, out the large windows, but he resisted the temptation.

Walking into the bathroom, he closed the door. He hadn't really needed to go, but he went ahead and did his business, then as he was washing his hands, he decided to take care of the ankle too. He knew what the scent of his blood did to the vampires in the house, and to Sam... better if there was less of it to get a whiff of.

Lifting his leg up, he placed his foot into the wash basin and started to wash off the dried blood.

While Dean was in the bathroom, Sam went to the hall closet to get the supplies he needed. They weren't hard to find, there was nothing else in the hall closet, just like there wasn't much in any of the other places humans kept things they needed to care for their bodies. The bathrooms were bare, save for some toothbrushes, that was actually a family joke, and of course there was soap, shampoo and deodorant. Otherwise, the room was empty of much of anything else.

After retrieving the supplies and closing the hall closet, Sam stopped outside the bathroom, raising a hand, fingers curling slightly to knock on the wood door. "Dean?"

Drying his foot quickly with a towel, he opened the door and walked out. What did Sam think, that he'd slipped out the window? Okay, not like that hadn't been on his wish list of things to do.

Sam watched Dean walk out of the bathroom, eying him as he did. "Uh, sorry, I thought that maybe," he pressed his lips together with a huff, "well, that something might be wrong." Licking his lips he jutted his chin toward the basement door, his gaze on Dean, "Are you ready to go back down now?"

Dean's mouth dropped open in surprise. What had he expected? Yeah, he'd thought they'd take care of his foot up here... maybe hang out in Sam's room. "If that's what you want to do," he shrugged like he didn't fucking care, even though he eyed the stairs that lead to the bedrooms.

Sam stared at Dean in silence, not moving as he watched the hunter look at the stairs leading to the bedrooms. He'd like nothing better than to take him up there. Go to his room and maybe lay together with him on the lounge again, touch, kiss, caress, and... Sam grit his teeth. His eyes, now darkening with the thoughts running through his head, memories of a lie, slid away from the hunter as Sam looked down at the floor. "I don't think you would like going to my room anymore," he told Dean softly through his teeth, voice rough. Sam looked up, onyx hued orbs meeting jade and locking, as Sam licked his lips. "There's no longer anything up there for us."

Memories of that time he'd been in the tub... when he'd invited Sam in, cause he wanted to... not for a trade, not because he felt coerced, but because he'd really wanted Sam there with him, flooded Dean's mind. A lump worked its way into his throat, and his eyes stung slightly. "If you say so," he answered, voice husky with emotions, before turning and starting for the doorway to the basement.

Sam pressed his lips together tightly as he watched Dean turn toward the basement doorway. Fighting back the desire to tell Dean that they could go up to his room, that it was alright, falling back into daring to believe again... in a lie... Sam swallowed the words, and took a heavy leaden step toward the basement door, following Dean's lead and reaching past him to hold the door open for him.

Dean took a step inside, and the darkness and the dank smell hit him. His entire body rebelled against being put in that damned cage again. He took one leaden step down the stairs, then just sat down on the top step. He looked down, one arm on his knee, "I don't want to go down there." If it were Roz, she'd pitch him down the stairs. He had no idea what Sam would do, but he'd seen the softness in his eyes.

Sam stood on the step behind Dean looking down at him, one hand braced on the wall beside them. Sam licked his lips, running his free hand through his hair as indecision warred inside of him. Was he willing to do that again? Believe in a lie? Allow himself to be used, tricked, played the fool? He sighed as he shifted his weight and thought it through. He really wasn't being tricked or played if he knew what to expect. Knew that nothing that happened, nothing that was said or done meant... anything to the hunter. Could his heart take loving Dean and getting nothing back? Sure there were touches and caresses in the basement, all of which he had to ' _buy_ '... this...

Making a decision, and maybe it was a hasty one, Sam reached down, grabbing Dean by the jacket and hauling him to his feet, almost roughly. Bending slightly, as Dean babbled on, his exact words, Sam wasn't really paying attention to, as he continued to tell himself he could do this, that his heart _needed_ him to, just as much as he worried about it being broken, it needed this. Sam wrapped an arm around Dean and hefted him over his shoulder then turned on his heel and headed back out of the basement steps and up the ones leading to the bedrooms.

Except for the yelp of surprise, Dean was quiet. At first his heart pounded against his chest as he wondered if he'd gone too far. Had he made Sam so angry that it was the end?

Then Sam was walking up the stairs toward his room, and Dean had to believe that even if he was angry, that's not where he'd take him to kill him or do anything drastic. He could have told Sam to drop him, that he'd walk... but his instincts of self preservation told him not to draw additional attention to his having rebelled against the plans that Sam had for him. That and the fact that his shouts might bring Ros, who'd then gloat.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Sam turned and walked down the hallway, passing door after door until reaching his room at the end of the hall. Walking in, Sam kicked the door closed and leaned his lower body back slightly on it as he turned the lock, then pulled from the door to walk over to his lounge, gently depositing Dean on it.

"Don't move." Sam told him after he drew back, his dark gaze intent on Dean's as he lay there on the lounge.

Dean's heart slammed against his chest, but he obeyed, his gaze glued to the vampire, trying to figure out what was going through his mind and if there was any danger.

Taking steps backward, his gaze still locked with Dean's, Sam opened the door to a small closet, then reached in feeling around, only tearing his gaze away from Dean for a second as he tugged free what he wanted. Returning his attention to Dean, two robe belts in hand, he walked back over to the lounge and crouched, "Gimme your hand."

Dean looked at the two flat satin belts, one a deep red, the other a rich blue. "What..." He licked his lips, "you're not leaving me again, are you? I mean why this if..."

The silence wasn't reassuring. Dean put out his left hand, eyes locked in a private battle with Sam's.

Sam kept his gaze steady on Dean's as he began binding the satin belt around his wrist, finally tearing it away when he needed to look down to tie the knot, then pulled up and moved around the lounge, the other end of the belt still in his hand, which he fed through the head of the lounge and began tying it there.

Once he finished, Sam walked back around, holding his hand out for Dean's other wrist. When he didn't receive it immediately, Sam looked down at the hunter, onyx clashing with jade. "Hand."

A moment passed, a long one. A muscle pulsed in Dean's jaw, as he gave up his hand. "You doing this to prove a point, Sam? You _know_ I can get out of this in my sleep." What the hell was it, some sort of reminder that he was a prisoner. As if he could forget. As if he was allowed to forget for more than a few minutes at a time.

Sam finished binding Dean's other wrist before he answered, moving to his knees beside the lounge, he leaned over Dean, his face hovering inches above Dean's, dark eyes intent on green. "Then I guess maybe you should refrain from sleeping anytime soon." Sam told him, eyes narrowing slightly, fangs elongated. Sam made no move to hide them either as he stared into the hunter's eyes.

There was nowhere for Dean to go. He pulled as far against the back of the lounge as he could, but was still too close to those fangs. The look in Sam's eyes was also distinctly unfriendly, almost like he might become unglued the way he'd been at the motel. "Alright... I'm not getting out of them. Thanks for... for making them loose," he said, half forcing the words out, half meaning them. His wrists weren't bound together and he had a full range of motion.

Sam's gaze searched Dean's face for a moment before he slowly pulled back. "You're welcome." Sam answered softly, pulling to his feet and walking over to the television.

Grabbing the remote, Sam brought it back and handed it to Dean. "Here, I'm sure you want this," he muttered, continuing past after Dean had taken it.

Walking back over toward the window, Sam sat down in the lone chair near it. The chair sat behind his lounge, so although Dean couldn't see him, Sam had a clear view of the hunter, as well as the rest of his room.

For a while, Dean changed channels and watched some shows, occasionally laughing out loud. But the entire time, he was very aware of Sam's presence in the room. The vampire was so fucking quiet it had Dean a little jumpy. "Sam?" He flipped the channels again. "Sam, come sit with me. I'm tired... tired of being alone." It was true, he'd missed Sam's company, weird as that was. Stockhold syndrome, a voice whispered in his head. Yeah... he couldn't rule it out.

Having taken to staring out the window while Dean watched the television, Sam's head turned abruptly toward Dean. 

_Sit with him._ Sam swallowed, tearing his gaze from Dean to look back out the window as indecision warred once again inside of him, and _no_ that was not excitement of any kind fluttering in his chest. It couldn't be, he couldn't allow it to be. _It was just a lie, a trick. Probably wants to escape again._ Sam frowned as he leaned closer to the window, "That's," Sam cleared his throat, his voice sounding far too husky and rough even to his own ears, "that's probably not something you really want." Sam licked his lips as he shook his head. "Just enjoy your TV."

"Fine." The word was spoken with bitterness, and a touch of rebellion. Dean pressed the buttons on the remote, and hit enter.

The large screen was taken up by a scene from a gay army porno. Some army captain had just ripped the shirt off a fresh faced kid in boot camp and was ordering him on his knees, "Unzip me."

"Y...yes sir."

As they younger guy was forced to touch the captain, Dean wondered if Sam was getting hard, was he touching himself? It was a dangerous game he was playing, but boredom did that to him. Made him chase danger.

Sam's head turned toward the TV, then his gaze slid to Dean, his eyes narrowing. Ignore it. He would simply ignore it, it was fine. Dean wanted to watch porn, let him watch, didn't bother Sam any at all. At least that was what he told himself, even as he slowly slid off the chair to his feet, to open the window beside him. Fresh air, that's what he needed. Fresh air and something else to think about.

Sam leaned an arm against the window glass, gaze intent on the ground below the house, as if he had never seen it before. His hand at the window slowly curling into a fist as he closed his eyes. Images that matched the sounds coming from the TV assailed him, but they weren't some nameless, meaningless actors, they were Dean and himself, on his lounge and they were moving together, clinging to one another, mouths meeting in hot demanding kisses.

Sam bit back a groan as he slowly opened is eyes, dark passion-orbs staring out into the yard, his cock hard and aching in his jeans, breaths coming slightly harder. He cleared his throat, "Why - why don't you see what else is on?"

He heard the need in Sam's voice, and closed his eyes, tipping his head back. "Because I'm fucking lonely, and you're not keeping me company." He might be pushing the envelope here, but he pulled his hand down as far as the satin bindings would allow him, and palmed his cock over his jeans, as much of it as he could reach. "Mmm... don't mind me," he whispered, listening to the sounds from the t.v. and imagining Sam taking his hand, forcing him to masturbate him. Strange... freaky as that had been, it had been hot as hell.

Sam turned his head to look toward Dean, a low groan bubbling from his throat before he could contain it. He licked his lips and rolled his forehead against the glass. "Please," Sam begged softly, eyes closing against the sights that still lived in his head.

He was the one tied down. The one behind bars. The one who had no say in what happened to him. And yet, this gave him a sense of power. It made his heart sing, his adrenalin rush through his veins. Maybe he was sick... maybe he was as strange as Sam. What the hell did it matter when he might never see the outside again? "Please what?" Using one hand, Dean popped the button of his jeans, and squeezed himself again, giving a soft gasp. "You want me to stop? Maybe I will if you just come... talk to me. Or maybe I'll just ask you to touch me... a little."

Sam kept his eyes closed as his lips parted, a groan tearing from his throat. "I - I _am_ touching you," Sam told him softly, "Oh God, I'm touching you, sliding my hands over you, feeling you." He bit his lip, "My hands are under your shirt, moving over you as I lean in and capture your mouth with mine, kissing you as hard and deep as I can, because I can't get enough. Even as I'm tugging your shirt up I don't want to pull away from your mouth, but I do just long enough to toss the damn thing away and then I'm right back and I'm tongue fucking your mouth as I run my hands over your body, down to the fastenings of your jeans." He barely bit back a growl, "And I'm shocked because your hands are there too, helping me get them unfastened so I can push my hand in, palming your cock, squeezing."

Dean was the one who was shocked. He'd expected Sam to get his ass over there, but ... this... this was hot... it was different... it was new. He lifted his hips and he pressed the heel of his hand down over his dick, groaning as he imagined Sam anxiously undoing his pant.

"I'm so fucking hard... can't wait for you to touch me, Sam. Hurry... squeeze me. I push your hand inside my pants, and then we're kissing again, and you're squeezing me. I need this... I don't know _why_... but I do... I do Sammy."

Sam gasped in a breath, the hand at his side rising to the window, palm flat against the cool glass as he rolled his head, a low groan breaking from deep in his throat. "I'm tugging at your pants with my free hand, want them off, out of the way, want to feel all of you. But, I refuse to let go of your cock, to tear my mouth from yours so I'm having to do it one handed and it's messy and rough and I'm pretty sure I'm ripping them but I can't bring myself to care because in the next moment I have them down and I can feel you with both hands as I reach down and squeeze your balls with one hand, pumping your dick with the other and my mouth," Sam licked his lips, shaking his head against the glass, "I'm nearly devouring you, I can't help it, I know you need to breath, but, I can't pull away, can't stop, Dean... stop me."

"I need to breath... I ... really... need... to... breath," Dean whispered roughly, between labored breaths. The thought of Sam that needy, almost out of control... sometimes it scared him, but fuck... it was hot and excited him too. "But I need this more... need you to touch me, to show me how you want me... I won't stop you, can't." Digging his heels into the firm padding of the lounge, Dean pushed himself back, so his hand could reach lower. Grasping his cock... pulling it out, he started to stroke himself harder, faster.

Sam's breaths quickened as if _he_ were the one that needed to breathe. His hands pulled away from the window to reach for the fastenings of his jeans, unfastening them as fast as he could, and pushing them down enough to pull out his swollen cock. Wrapping his hand around his aching cock,Sam started to stroke himself to the image in his head, the picture they had painted together.

"Oh God... my mouth breaks free of yours. I'm whispering in your ear, begging you... please... please make me come... so hard, so fucking hard... let me..." Precum leaked over his fist. Dean bit his lip, stroking the top portion of his dick faster, so close... so close....

Sam groaned, head tilting back as he stroked himself faster. "Fuck," the single word a soft whisper of breath that left his lips before Sam moved with vampire speed over to the lounge.

In a flash he was there, looming over Dean, his free hand wrapped around Dean's on his cock, stopping Dean's movement as he forced them to simply squeeze Dean's hard flesh together, dark lust filled orbs laser focused on jade. "Come for me, when I tell you to." Sam's request was whisper soft.

Wide-eyed, Dean stared at Sam, his breaths coming out in gasps, the need to move his hips almost unbearable, the pressure building in his loins with every squeeze of Sam’s hand. “Ungh... Sam... tell me. Need it,” he groaned, moving his head from side to side, his body on fire ... craving release.

Sam moved his body higher over Dean's, one hand moving to brace himself as he knocked Dean's hand away from his cock. Wrapping his large hand around both Dean's cock and his own together, Sam started stroking them both.

His gaze locked with Dean's once more as Sam bit his lip, low moans sounding deep in his throat as he bucked his hips, sliding his hand faster as he pumped them harder.

Dean practically writhed now that Sam’s cock was sliding against his, holy fuck. He bit his lower lip so hard he almost drew blood as he watched Sam watch him. A private conversation was going on between them, in silence, but it was there. It would be so easy... so fucking easy to forget how Sam had dragged him back, and that he was a prisoner. So fucking easy... maybe for a moment, it wouldn’t hurt. A moment of sunlight... why the fuck not?

"I shake my head at your request, before leaning down to take your cock into my mouth, moaning as I suck the precum from the tip. You always taste so good," Sam told him, tip of his tongue darting out to lick slowly across his bottom lip. "I take you in until you're bottoming out against the back of my throat and I'm swallowing against you, humming and pumping you with one hand, squeezing and massaging your balls with the other," Sam shook his head, "but I still won't let you come."

Sam's breaths were heavy, chest rising and falling with each as he pumped them harder, wrist pivoting. Low groans sounding deep in his throat.

It was too much... too fucking much. Dean reached out suddenly, his hands running up and down Sam’s sides, his shoulders. Touching him of his own free will... no deals... for the first time. Lifting his hips up, he squeezed Sam’s ass. “I’m fucking your mouth, Sam. My cock is so wet and hot, and I’m moving inside your mouth so deep I’m hitting the back of your throat. My balls hurt, they fucking ache... cause I need to come, need it so bad. I beg you... please Sam... let me come...”

Sam groaned, panting his breaths, muscles flexing at Dean's touch, nearly jumping at the shock of it. Hips thrusting harder, his hand moved, bringing them both closer to the edge, so fucking close...

Licking his lips, Dean eyed Sam’s lips. No... he wasn’t gonna lose even that small distance he’d managed to keep between them. Raising his head, he kissed Sam’s upper arm, rubbing his mouth against it, mentally imagining his mouth working against Sam’s.

Just as Sam was about to topple over the edge, his gaze intent on Dean, he squeezed the base of both their cocks, shaking his head. "You wanna come? Kiss me." he dipped his head, lips a hair's breath away from Dean's. "Need it, just like the story, just like our 'painting'. Kiss me." Sam told him softly.

Sam’s whispers washed over him like velvet and satin, made him want to comply. His mouth was so close now, and Dean knew how good Sam tasted, and the things he could do with his tongue. He knew how good they’d come if Sam was tongue fucking him at the same time.

He brushed his lips against Sam, lightly, eyes stinging. He dragged his tongue against the seam of Sam’s lips, then kissed its corner.

Sam’s heart started to lighten, a smile forming, at least on the inside as Dean’s lips brushed across his. _Yes, kiss me. Kiss me, baby. I love you, Dean. I do._

Sam started to pump them once again, chasing their release, wanting them to come as they kissed. His lips parted as Dean’s tongue ran over the seam of his lips, parted in invitation, in wanting, in need... only to be denied. Sam turned his head, chasing Dean’s mouth, brow creased in confusion.

“I... I have to keep a piece of myself,” Dean whispered, voice thick with emotion as he moved his mouth to kiss Sam’s jaw, his cheeks, everywhere but his mouth. “Let me come Sam... come with me.”

 _“I... I have to keep a piece of myself,”_ Dean’s words echoed in Sam’s head even as he kissed him elsewhere. Made his dead heart ache, feeling as if it were being twisted in two.

A low growl broke from Sam’s lips as his body tensed, balls drawing up. Squeezing his eyes tightly closed, closing out the fact that Dean still didn’t want him, didn’t love him, wouldn’t love him. Sam’s lips parted, head tilting back. “Aauugh! Fuck!” Sam cried out just before the first rope of cum left him.

Dean pressed his mouth almost painfully hard into Sam’s cheek, to stop himself from kissing Sam and to muffle his shout of sheer pleasure as started to come. “Fuck...” he lifted his hips, demanding more pressure as he came long and hard, a groan working its way out of his throat even as he fell back. He’d needed that... needed it so damned much.

Sam collapsed on top of him, smearing wet cum across Dean’s belly and tee.

“Oh God...” Dean whispered, “Oh...” He noticed Sam had turned away, moved his own head to see. Raising his hand, he ran his hand over Sam’s face, his thumb wiping away tears. “The answer is in your music, you know? Your Sting CD,” he said, closing his arms around his enemy, maybe his love, willing a sense of peace into his heart, though he knew this moment would not last. It couldn’t.

Sam swallowed, blinking away his tears. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried really. It'd been... centuries he was sure. But then, he hadn't had anyone rip open his heart, dead heart or alive, before. He took a deep breath, sliding his hands against the lounge to lift himself away from Dean, not meeting is gaze. "'Fortress Around Your Heart'?" Sam gave a nod as he climbed off the lounge, turning to walk toward his bathroom. "I'll try to make myself one of those," he called back over his shoulder.

Dean pushed up onto his elbows and watched Sam’s back. “Wrong song, Sammy. I thought you were smarter than that.” He was still breathing hard and tugging on the satin belts for a second, before putting his hands down.

Sam didn't answer as he grabbed a wet washcloth and a dry hand towel, bringing them both bath with him. He was still silent as he sat down on the edge of the lounge and started to wipe the mess off of Dean, and still his gaze did not meet the hunter's. He worked quietly and efficiently, lips pressed tightly together as he cleaned Dean up, then himself, reaching for the hem of his tee and pulling it up over his head.

Wrapping the towels in his tee, Sam pulled from the lounge, "If you want a clean shirt, I can give you one."

“Ah... yeah... kinda hard to put on,” Dean noted, his eyes following Sam. The vampire's mood had clearly changed, but Dean couldn’t gauge it. Sad.... verge of anger, what? “Am I... am I sleeping here?” He bit his lip, wondering if now that Sam was done with him he’d be taken back to the basement. This time, he probably wouldn’t refuse to go.

Sam walked over to his dresser pulling out a dark blue tee and slipped it over his head, then reached in to grab another one, before sliding the drawer closed.

Walking back over to the lounge, Sam took a seat on it's edge, tee tossed over his lap as he held out a palm, "Hand."

When Dean gave it to him, Sam started to work open the knots. Finally at long length he shrugged a shoulder. "What do you want to do, Dean?" Sam asked him, still not looking up.

Pulling his hand once he was free and waiting for his second wrist to be freed, he searched Sam’s face. The vampire still refused to look at him, and it made Dean a little nervous. “Does it matter?” he finally asked, his other hand now free so that he could pull the gray tee shirt over his head.

Sam pressed his lips together for a long moment as he sat in silence. "I am giving you a choice between the two," Sam bit out, his gaze finally rising to meet Dean's. Dark golden hazel gazing into green. "Don't make it about _that_."

Yeah, freedom was off the table. “Are you angry?” he asked. “If I stay here, are you.... you gonna talk to me or...” he nodded toward the chair behind the lounge, where Sam had hidden himself before.

Sam searched Dean's face for a long moment before he shook his head, "I'm not angry." _I'm hurting._ He glanced behind himself toward the television before looking back at Dean. "You... don't want to watch TV?" Sam asked him softly. "I'm sure you'd find it more entertaining than me."

“You don’t want to sit and talk to me?” Dean turned the question around on Sam. “You know what would be fun? If we had a couple beers, maybe sat outside.” He took a deep breath, afraid his words would trigger anger, “just... just outside. It would feel... almost normal.”

Sam frowned then sighed. "I don't drink beer," he shook his head, "vampire, remember? There's also none in the house. Unless you want blood, or I leave to go get you something," Sam shrugged a shoulder. He eyed Dean a long moment. "If I leave, you have to go back to the basement," he pressed his lips together, pausing for a moment, "but when I come back, we -" Sam's gaze went to the tree outside his bedroom window they had sat before, then back to Dean, "we could go out side."

Always the reminder of his status. Slightly dejected, Dean got up and nodded. “Alright. But... I could come with you, to get the beer.” He let the idea hang between them.

Sam stared at Dean for a long moment before his lips slowly slid into a smile that was far from friendly, fangs showing, eyes slightly narrowed. "Shall I just _give_ you a shove from the car too? Aid your escape a little more? What about if I dug you a tunnel out of the basement?" he tilted his head to the side, before tearing his gaze away and pulling to his feet. "I think we're done here."

Eyes locked with Sam’s, disappointment and resentment flaring in his greens, Dean quietly walked to the door, and opened it. “No Sam, why don’t you just put me back into the hamster cage. Then neither of us will be confused about what I really am to you.”


	8. Chapter 8

Carlisle knocked on Sam’s bedroom door, and when his son said to come in, he and Alice walked inside. Looking at Sam’s drawn features, Carlisle knew they were going to have to be delicate about this. He didn’t want his son going around the bend. His son had waited a long time, longer than his other children, to find a mate. And the timing and circumstances could not have been worse. Sam had always been a little compulsive, and his reaction to finding his mate and knowing the clock was running had been no different. 

Once Ros had notified the Voltari with details on Dean Winchester, the hunter was a man marked for death. The Cullens had to hold him for the Voltari to take care of. Lying to the Voltari was not an option. It was more than likely that at least one of the Vampires would have the ability to read the truth. That meant the Cullens could neither let Dean go and then try to claim he escaped, nor could they trick the Voltari into believing that the human was in love with Sam, and would be his mate... and thus have no reason to ever disclose their existence to other humans. The Voltari creed, or purpose, was to keep that knowledge from humans, and they thought nothing of slaughtering them. They also slaughtered Vampires who violated their laws.

Their one chance for a happy ending was for Sam to make Dean fall in love with him. Then no one would have to die. The Voltari could read Dean, be satisfied, and leave. Carlisle knew the circumstances made it a long shot, unless Dean fell prey to Stockholm Syndrome. And if Dean was not in love, Carlisle wasn't sure he could stop Sam from squaring off with the Votari. But there was no winning against them, not even if the entire family stood behind Sam. 

Alice went right to Sam and slipping her arms around his waist, gave him a hug. “They’ve landed, in New York,” she said. “The Voltari should be here in...”

“If we’re lucky, it will take them a few days,” Carlisle interjected. “It will depend on whether they come directly or not.”

Sam looked down at his sister, then up at his father, lips parted as he shook his head. "No, they can't be here already. It's too soon, and I don't have... Dean doesn't lo..." Sam raised a hand running it through his hair, before sitting down numbly onto the lounge. "What am I gonna do?" he muttered softly, staring off straight ahead.

“Son does he have any feelings for you?” Carlisle knew about the deals and the fooling around. He had a feeling that that particular hunter would have refused every deal and would have made Sam force him every step of the way, if there wasn’t any return interest. But that didn't mean he would or had rolled over. Not for the first time, Carlisle wished they'd been able to get in touch with Jasper. His son had the gift of sensing emotions, and also manipulating them. A little push from him might have gone a long way.

Sam looked over at his Carlisle and shook his head, "Nah, none." He pressed his lips together, shaking his head as he tore his gaze away from his dad. Clasping his hands together in front of himself, Sam sighed. "I'm just going to have to turn him, no matter what. He'll hate me, but what the hell," he glanced back at his father and sister, "not like he doesn't already, right? And they won't act against him once he's a Vampire... he'll be one of us."

Alice went to sit next to him. “I think you’re wrong... he does feel for you. Or he wouldn’t be jealous.” She’d tossed out the information about Sam’s date and even if she hadn’t been satisfied by Dean’s reactions, from what Sam told her, she could tell Dean had in fact been jealous.

Sam sighed and shook his head. "I don't think so, Alice. If he had any feelings for me at all, why'd he leave?"

“If you turn him, the Voltari won’t kill him,” Carlisle stated the obvious. “But to turn him against his wishes, it goes against our way.” The Cullens were not only ‘vegetarians’ but they also didn’t believe in turning people without giving them a choice.

Sam's attention went to their dad as Caslisle spoke, Sam knew what he said was true, the right thing. He _shouldn't_ turn Dean against his will, wouldn't if the situation had been different. "I don't see that I have any other choice in the matter, dad," Sam told him then looked back at Alice. "I change him and let him hate me in order to save his life. It's all I can do."

Her sketch pad was never far, and was having a vision even as the men talked. With unseeing eyes she drew what she saw, and felt Carlisle come up behind her. “No. Sam, no.” Licking her lips, Alice got up. “Before... I saw you two together, happy. That was before he escaped, before you dragged him back.” They all knew that had not been pretty for Dean.

“I think that changed things... something big changed,” she said, her eyes drilling into Sam’s. “If you turn him against his will... this is what will happen...” she showed him the picture, one based on Sam's new decision to turn Dean. “He’ll be as strong as us, and he’ll hate us... he’ll try to kill you, maybe all of us.”

Carlisle pinched the bridge of his nose. “If that’s the result of your decision to turn him against his will, it’s unacceptable.”

Sam opened his mouth to argue, would have argued if Alice hadn't said that Dean might try to kill his family too. Instead he snapped his mouth closed with a sigh. "So, what do I do? Just let him die? Let the Voltari kill him?" Sam hung his head shaking it.

“Maybe if you change an important factor...” Carlisle started.

“Like... get him to agree,” Alice added. “Yes, then he wouldn’t have a reason to hate us all. Talk some sense into him, explain what the Votari are, how he has no prayer of escaping them. Make him see that turning is the only way.”

Sam nodded. He really didn't think it would work, but he'd give it a shot. Worst case, he's just have to change him and hope for the best, because Sam was _not_ going to allow Dean to be killed.

* * *

 

Ankles shackled to long chains, Dean concentrated on breathing as he did push ups. His mind was a furious mess of emotions, of confusion. It was so much easier when when things were black and white, when he'd first had his ass dragged back here and could hate Sam for it. Hate helped him focus, helped him know what he wanted, made him feel less torn. But just like the first time he'd been imprisoned, something about Sam seemed to wear him down. He knew about Stockholm Syndrom, but this wasn't that... this was something else. As straight as he'd been all his life, Dean was pretty damned sure that if he'd met Sam under other circumstances, and if Sam had propositioned him, Dean would have gone down the road of taking him to his motel room and seeing where it went, sooner or later. The attraction between them was that strong. And maybe they'd have found this forever kind of love that Sam kept talking about.

 

But that's not how things had gone. The black and white facts were that his choice had been taken away. How could someone tell you they loved you, and yet keep you locked up, sometimes in a matchbox, sometimes in a gilded cage? And why... how could the person who was locked up have these... these insane wishes ... wanting to explore the love that was offered, even as he doubted it's reality?

 

That's it, he was gonna stop looking in Sam's eyes, stop looking at his face. He needed to dehumanize him more. Maybe make Sam hate him. Maybe then, Sam would let him go. Right... that's why his heart jumped at the sound of the door, even as he refused to look up to see who it was, and even as he hoped it was Sam coming to keep him company.

 

Sam walked down the steps his heart heavy. He still didn't really know how in the hell he was going to save Dean from the Voltari. Sure he had told his sister and father that he would simply turn Dean and allow him to hate him, but then what Alice had drawn... and even before that... knowing Dean had no love for him was hard enough, but the thought of having his hate into eternity, it hurt beyond anything Sam could imagine.

Lifting his head as he reached the bottom step, Sam looked over at Dean and held up a hand, carrying a six pack of beers. "I got you somethin'," Sam told him, before tearing his gaze away, "I-" he sighed and shook his head as he grabbed a chair to pull over near the cage. "Nothing," he said, setting the beers down on the floor close enough to the bars that Dean could reach through and grab one. They were already cold, the amber bottles frosting in the room's warmer temperature, condensation sliding down the sides.

Taking a step back, Sam took a seat in the chair, elbows on his knees, hands folded before him. "Go ahead, have as many as you want," he mumbled softly, head hanging once more.

"Peace offering?" Dean asked, before he could hold the words back. Lowering his body, he crawled close to the bars and sat up, reaching for a bottle. Holding the bottle cap against tne of the bars, he hit the bottom of the bottle and got it open. Only as he brought the cold brew up to his lips did he look at Sam, already breaking his first vow to separate himself from the vampire.

Sam sighed and shrugged a shoulder, though he didn't look up. "If that's what you want to call it."

"What would _you_ call it?"

Sam glanced up at Dean, brow quirked, "Love token?"

Dean swallowed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at Sam. "Sometimes I believe you. Then I remember this..." he gripped a bar and made as if to shake it, though it was immovable. "Words are easy. I've always been more of a judge by someone's actions kinda guy." And yet a warm heat was washing over him, like he could bask in this man's love, even if his love was... unusual and maybe 'off.'

Sam huffed and tore his gaze awayy. "Doesn't matter now. None of this," he said as he sat back with a sigh, "matters anymore." He looked at Dean. "The Voltari are here, in New York." Sam licked his lips, "When they get here, they will kill you. There is no fighting them, no getting away from them, they are more powerful than _anything_ you have ever faced, _will_ ever face." He looked beyond Dean, muscle twitching in his jaw as he spoke. "I thought... I thought I could get you to love me, save you, but..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Dean thought he could fight anything, win against anything. There was always an Achilles heel, always. Yet he'd been Sam's prisoner for... it felt like forever. He couldn't fight 'one Sam,' so how was he going to fight a bunch of badasses that were like Sam, but intent on killing him? Well, there was always a chance... always. "Am I gonna spend my last hours a prisoner?" Dean stood up, looked intently at Sam. "Am I?"

Sam pressed his lips together. "You were never a prisoner, not really. Prisoners have no power, no say over their captors. You could twist me in two with a word or a look. Prisoners have all their rights taken away. I tried to give you as much as I could without having you run away." Taking a deep breath, Sam continued. "You want your freedom? You want away from here, me? Let me change you into a vampire. It will save your life and then you can have your precious freedom. I love you too much to see you die."

"You're fucking kidding." Dean almost dropped his beer. Oddly, it wasn't the notion of being turned that had him stunned. What held him in place was Sam's offer to give him his freedom, something... something he'd thought he'd never hear. Lifting the bottle to his lips, he drained the rest of his beer. 

Looking intently at Dean, Sam asked softly, "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

Slowly bending down, Dean set the empty bottle on the floor and grabbed another one. "Drink with me." It was a demand.

Sam's gaze flickered to the beer on the floor then back up into Dean's face. He shook his head, "I - we can't process alcohol well."

"It won't kill you." Dean closed his eyes for a moment. "Drink with me."

Sam gave a weary sigh and leaned forward, grabbing one of the bottles and pulling back, bottle in hand. Sitting back on the chair, his gaze never leaving Dean, Sam popped the cap off the beer like it was nothing, then raised the bottle to his lips, taking a drink. Lowering the bottle, Sam made a face before the corner of his lips quirked up in a rueful smile. "I'd rather drink it from your blood."

"Is that how I'd be? Never enjoy a drink again?" Dean asked, his entire body coiled and tensed, knowing he was on the very edge of a cliff, a decision that could kill him, one way or another. 

Sam's gaze was intense as he licked his lips. "I enjoy drink... enjoy the taste of your blood. It's better than anything I've ever had before. Even as a human." he gave a small smile, "And before you ask, yes, I still remember being human." He sat forward, "If you _really_ wish to drink something or eat it, you can," he gave a nod, " as you say, it won't kill you," he shrugged a shoulder, "but it won't help you either. All you'll _need_ to survive is blood," he frowned slightly, tearing his gaze away as he fidgeted with the bottle in his hands, "and your mate," he added in a mumble. Sam cleared his throat, looking back up at Dean, "So, is it a deal?"

"No. No it's not a deal. I'm not drunk enough to make that deal." His heart was hammering so hard it fucking hurt. "You said _freedom_. If I take the deal, I'm gonna hold you to that." A muscle started to twitch in his jaw.

Sam nodded, his gaze intent on Dean's. "I promise. On all the love I have for you, as soon as you allow the change, I will free you. You have my word," Sam closed his eyes taking in a deep breath before opening them, "forever."

One thing Sam hadn't done was lie to him. Nodding, Dean drank some more, licking his lips as a little drizzled out in his rush to get wasted. "I probably should have asked for whiskey." He took a couple deep breaths. "Get in here. Before I change my mind, get in here."

Sam pulled from the chair unlocked the door to the cage and walked inside. Biting his lip, he crouched, then moved to sit flat on the floor, cross-legged and took another drink of the beer, grimacing and setting it down on the floor. "Whenever you're ready, just - just let me know," Sam told him softly, his chest aching at the thought of never seeing Dean again, but at least he'd know that Dean was out there, _somewhere_ , this his love lived. He had to do this for that fact alone, no matter how much it hurt to let go, to know that he would never see Dean again. 

"Undo these." Dean walked close, looked down at the shackles, then kept drinking. He was going to hold it together, and he was going to have as much control over the situation as he could.

Sam pressed his lips together and leaned forward, reaching out to unlock the shackles from around Dean's ankles.

Dean licked his lips. "Tell me what it was like, when you were turned. Who did it. Why."

Pulling back once he was finished unfastening the shakles Sam looked up at Dean from where he sat on the floor. With a sigh, Sam ran a hand through his hair, "I - I was dying," Sam licked his lips, "Carli - uh, my dad found me in the hospital he worked at. I was dying and he turned me. I was," he gave a small huff. "I was suppose to be for Alice, but..." he shrugged a shoulder, "she found Jasper," he looked into Dean's eyes, "literally," he waved a dismissive hand, "long story."

"If she hadn't _found_ Jasper, then she'd be your mate." He was struggling to understand, to balance all these conflicting thoughts and emotions. Dean was trying so damned hard.

Sam shrugged a shoulder, "She was suppose to be, yes." he shook his head, "but you know parents." he gave a small smile, "It's like yours wanting you to marry a good girl with a good family. Doesn't always work that way, but that was Car - I mean, dad's thinking, yes."

"What about _your_ thinking?" Bending over, Dean grabbed yet another bottle, held it out for Sam to open.

Sam shook his head as he opened the bottle for Dean and handed it back, "I was young, new to all of this." He frowned, "Alice means the world to me, all of them do, but was she the one?" he quirked a brow and shook his head, "No. We both knew this, it's why when she found Jasper," he shrugged, "I wasn't upset."

Was that relief flooding through his system? Dean didn't even know. In silence, he knocked back as much of his drink as he could, recalling the taste of apple pie, the feel of a perfectly flaky crust. Java in the morning and late at night. A donut with double glazing eaten at three in the morning. There were some tears that threatened to fall, but he banished all thought of his brother and dad... what they'd think of him... of this, and looked down at the vampire. "Stand up." He swallowed. "We're doing this standing up."

Sam looked at him and shook his head, "I - I will do this any way that you wish, but if we are standing," Sam licked his lips and sighed softly. He could catch Dean when he fell. It wasn't too much to ask that they were standing. Sam shook his head, "Nevermind," Sam mumbled as he pulled to his feet, standing before Dean and nodding. "Alright. Whenever you're ready." 

Dean let the bottle go, letting it crash against the floor. Taking a step forward, he put his hands on Sam's chest and pushed him back up against the wall. Pushing one knee between Sam's legs, he brought his mouth close to Sam's. "You want this?"

Sam's lips parted, tongue darting out to run along his bottom lip as his gaze fell to Dean's mouth. He nodded, "Yeah, kiss me."

Touching his mouth to Sam's, Dean held still for a moment, then pulled away slightly. "I want one more thing, in addition to freedom. I want you to promise me, Sam... If I kill anyone... anyone, you, your family, the Voltari... whoever it takes... you finish me. I don't want to be the monster I used to hunt. Promise me."

Sam licked his lips as he gazed at Dean, "I-" he swallowed. Not many of his kind lived the way that the Cullens did. They were rare, living off animals and not humans. It could be done, but it was hard, it had taken them all some getting use to it, and still Jasper had his moments when they had to rein him in. Sam gave a small nod. "I promise." He wasn't so sure he could keep that promise, but he would try. Even if Dean killed, there was a good chance he's never hear about it. There was no doubt Dean would run far away from him and every Cullen on the planet once the transformation was over. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard a promise to keep after all. 

"Deal." Dean sealed it with a kiss, a hard, brutal kiss. Their mouths crushed together, teeth clinking. He tasted blood on his lips, his own, it hurt, it burned, but he was almost unaware of it. The anger and denial welling up inside him needed an outlet, and this was it. His hand slid behind Sam's neck, pulling him closer, his body sliding against the vampires. He wanted, needed to find fault, wanted to blame the one who was going to turn him... and when that failed, he tried to punish him with this... 

Sam returned the kiss, giving as good as he got, though his teeth ached and the blood pounded in his temples. His blood lust was was as high as his need for his mate as he ground his hips back against Dean, their mouth crushing together, tongues tangling. Sam gripped Dean's face in both his hands, tongue fucking his mouth hard, giving no quarter, a low growl sounding deep in his throat as he held Dean's head still to his mouth and tongue's assault. 

Heat flared between them, burning away all thoughts, all doubts in Dean's mind. He moaned against Sam's mouth, his body hardening, pressing against Sam's, seeking... wanting. He moved one hand behind Sam, gripping his ass, pulling him up against his body, letting him feel his erection. All bets were off. There was no pride, no right and wrong. Just him and this vampire who set his blood on fire. 

Sam's hands' moved, one down to cup the back of Dean's neck, the other slid between them cupping Dean through his jeans before he broke the kiss, sucking Dean's bottom lips before as he did. "Want you," Sam breathed softly, "once more," his lips brushed Dean's, "please."

Thrusting hard against Sam's palm, Dean groaned. "Yes... yes, Sam. Want you... right now, one more time... fuck me." It had been so long, so fucking long since he'd had Sam inside him. Felt him fucking him hard, and yet straining to protect him, to keep from hurting him. Too long. His hands moved between them, and he started to undo Sam's pants, his mouth breaking away as he stepped back to pull down Sam's zipper. His eyes were locked with the vampires, engaged in a battle of love, and war, and anger, and truth, and wills. Just like every other moment between them.

Sam allowed Dean the time it took to unfasten his jeans before stepping forward. In one fluid motion, he captured Dean's mouth, his hands quickly moving to Dean's jeans, unfastening the button and zipper. As he tugged the jeans down, they never stopped kissing, tongues sliding together, the tip of Sam's tongue running along the roof of Dean's mouth along the backs of his teeth, flicking against Dean's tongue before twining together. 

Wrapping one arm around Sam's shoulder, the other around his waist, Dean clung to Sam, rubbing up against him, moaning against his mouth as waves of heat consumed him. He was getting so hard and heavy between his legs, he needed Sam to touch. Their bodies writhed together, Dean unable to get as much pressure as he wanted, growling in frustration. He reached down, and pushed his jeans further down his body, then practically kicked them off. By the time he was back in Sam's arms, Sam's jeans were half way down the vampire's thighs. "Better," he muttered, arms around Sam's shoulders, thrusting his hips and grinding his cock against Sam's. "Oh yeah... fuck..."

Sam ground his hips back against Dean's as he sought out Dean's mouth, lips pressed together mouths open Sam moaned softly, eyes closing. "Love you," he whispered softly, before sliding his tongue into Dean's mouth, kissing him hard, tongues tangling, teeth knocking together. Sam didn't want to hear why he didn't, shouldn't love Dean. Fact was he did and whether or not the hunter wanted to hear it, Sam had said it anyway, even if he did steal Dean's chance to argue away.

Everything Sam said about him having had power over Sam came back to him full force as Sam kissed the breath out of him. It was something he'd known all along, something he'd revelled in, each time Sam looked at him a certain way, focused on only him. He even liked his obsession, it made him feel... special, got him hot in all sorts of wrong ways. And he'd exercised that power on many ocasions, manipulating, pushing Sam, getting satisfaction from seeing him do what he asked, wanted. Was that love? He wasn't sure, but he knew damned well if he weren't forced to stay here... he'd be back, he'd take Sam out for a test drive... see if there was something there.

Dean kissed him back like he loved him, held him like he loved him, moved against him like Sam was the center of his world. For the moment, it felt right... damned right. Their breaths mingled. Their groans echoed off the walls. Dean's mouth slipped from Sam' and moved over the shell of his ear. "Do me."

Sam's breath hitched as a low groan broke from his throat, eyes slowly fluttering open pulled back to look at Dean through passion glazed eyes. He licked his lips and reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and tossing it off as he moved his legs, making his jeans slide down enough to step out of them, his gaze fixed on Dean the entire time. "You have no idea what you do to me." Sam told him softly, as he slid his boxers down and leaned in to slant his mouth over Dean's again.

"Show me." Grabbing Sam's hips, Dean spun them around so his own back was against the wall for the moment. He moved his palms over Sam's alabaster chest, so fucking perfect, no scars, no imperfections, just like the rest of the vampire. He dodged Sam's mouth, his own glancing off the corner of Sam's and lifted his eyes to Sam's. The heat in his lover's eyes took his breath away and made his blood boil. Dipping his head, he kissed Sam's throat, sucking in his soft skin, nipping and working his way back to his ear. He tipped his tongue into his ear canal, letting his hot and heavy breath's fan over Sam's cheeks. "Show me, Sammy. And call me 'mate.' Wanna hear you say it... wanna feel what you feel... wanna know..." He couldn't explain it, he was still searching for the truth.

Sam's head fell back against the wall, lips parted, breath gasping out. Swallowing hard, Sam opened his eyes to look toward the ceiling before he looked back at Dean. Clenching his teeth together he thought about Dean's request. _Call me mate_. Could he do that and not lose his heart completely? Sam's fingertips bit into the back of Dean's neck his lower back as the vamprie's grip tightened. "I -" Sam paused, swallowing. "You're my mate, my world and I love you now and into eternity," Sam told him softly, before his eyes closed. 

Every word vibrated through Dean, had him fighting for air. It was the truth, he didn't need to ever hear it again, it was the pure and simple truth. "Then love me. Right now, love me," he demanded, mouth pressed against Sam's lips, kissing him lightly, sucking his lower lip into his mouth slowly. "Love me Sam... love your mate." 

A low growl tore from Sam's throat as his arms moved to wrap around Dean, pulling him closer, his mouth slanting over Dean's, tongue darting inside to tangle with his hunters. Sam walked them backward a few steps then slowly started to bend, moving them down to the floor. His mouth worked against Dean's, running his tongue up over the backs of his teeth, slanting his mouth flush across Dean's tongue to suckle it, then pushing back inside to tangle with Dean'se as low moans sounded deep in his throat.

His hands moved down Dean's body, mapping him out, sliding against his bare skin, fingertips digging in as he clung to him, pressed their bodies together. Cupping Dean's ass, he lifted the hunter's body slightly, grinding his aching erection against Dean's, groaning at the feel of their cocks sliding together. Fingertips bit into the flesh of Dean's ass, before slipping away to pull up, running over the smooth skin of his sides, one slipping between them to palm Dean's cock as the other slid up under his shoulder.

It was like Sam was everywhere all at once, his large hands roaming over Dean's body, touching him, making him feel alive even as he was only moments away from death. His last time as a human, and Sam was making it count. Dean felt like putty in the vampire's hands, letting him mold him, writhing, responding to his every touch, groaning out his name. "Saaam, God..." his hands clawed the ground when Sam's palm closed over his cock, sending shockwaves through his body.

Dean felt the links of the chains that had held him. He couldn't explain why he did it, but he somehow pulled them across Sam's body, one length over his waist, the other over his shoulder. From where he was laying, under Sam, it looked like they were chained together. He should hate those chain, those bindings... but holy fuck, the dark metal looked so damned hot against the vampire's alabaster skin. Maybe he was looking at Sam the way Sam looked when he was caught in his obsession. 

Hooking his legs around Sam's, he lifted himself up, grinding his cock against Sam's palm and body, and bringing his mouth to Sam's. He brushed Sam's mouth with his, then sucked his lower lip into his mouth hard enough that it might be painful.

A low deep moan worked out of Sam's throat before he pulled his head back, only to dip it once again, nipping gently at Dean's jawline, and trailing open mouthed kisses along the bone back to his neck and down.

Sliding his hand away from Dean's shoulder as he pulled back, the chain across his own making a tinkering sound, though it didn't fall, Sam knelt between Dean's legs. Pulling his hand from the hunter's cock, Sam slid his hands up under Dean's ass, lifting his lower body up, shouldering his legs as he leaned in, readjusting his hands on Dean's backside so his thumbs were free, he pulled Dean's ass cheeks apart and let his tongue dart out, licking across his tightly puckered hole.

The sight of Sam's head between his legs and the show of strength, when he'd lifted him up like that, had Dean weak on the inside. Then Sams slick tongue was teasing him, and all Dean could think about was how good it felt, how he wanted... needed more. Braced on his elbows, he lifted his hips, whispering thickly about how much he liked what Sam was doing, begging him not to stop.

Sam's tongue pressed into Dean, lapping at him, pressing deeper and curling as he moaned softly, nipping at the tender sensitive flesh around his hole.

Closing his eyes, Dean reached for his cock and started stroking himself in time with the motions of Sam's tongue. His lips parted, his breaths leaving him in pants as he squirmed, sucking his stomach in when Sam's tongue penetrated inside him. "Oh God... can't take much more... need you... need you Sam," he pleaded.

Sam pulled his tongue and head back, gently lowering Dean's lower body back to the floor, then reached out, batting his hand away from his cock. Wrapping his own large hand around the base, Sam lowered his head and unceremoniously took him deep into his throat, swallowing around him, a low moan breaking from his throat as he pulled his head slowly back and began to pump, his mouth working Dean's cock, humming around his length.

Feet now planted on the floor on either side of Sam's shoulders, Dean gyrated and lifted his hips, watching intently through hooded eyes as his cock disappeared, engulfed almost completely in Sam's mouth. Needing to touch, he ran his hands up and the sides of Sam's neck, and then carded his fingers through his soft hair,fingers clenching around the strands as waves of pleasure wracked his body. He started to say things, to beg, to move his head from side to side, almost incoherent with need.

Pulling his head back Sam let Dean's cock fall from his lips, dipping his head down further to slowly lick up the underside, base to tip, swirling his tongue around the crown, then pulling away as he released Dean's. Slowly, he started to crawl up his body, head dipping to trail open mouthed kisses, to paint Dean's flesh with his tongue from groin to chest as he moved.

The sight and feel of Sam's tongue dragging against his skin, tasting him like that, was so fucking hot, Dean thought he was gonna explode. Then when Sam's mouth closed over his nipple, Dean groaned, his hand cupping the back of Sam's head. This wasn't just sex, he was being made love to... every part of him, like Sam was trying to memorize how he felt and tasted. Would he be that different as a vampire? Taste and feel different to Sam? His heart constricted. Lowering his head, bringing it close to Sam's ear, he asked. "Feels... feels like goodbye. You saying goodbye to me, Sam?" His breaths were so fucking harsh, he had to concentrate to speak clearly over them.

Sam released Dean's nipple, tongue sliding slowly over the hard nub as he sighed out a breath, forehead lowering to Dean's collar before he turned his head to face Dean, eyes fluttering open. "Yes," Sam answered softly, lifting his head and slanting his mouth over Dean's, kissing him hard. 

A lump rose in Dean's throat. "Best damn send off," he managed to say before Sam's mouth descended over his. Their tongues tangled, dueled inside and outside their mouths. Dean's fingers dug into Sam's shoulders, his back, pressing over the chain sometimes. His entire body was vibrating as he fucked up against Sam, his cock so fucking hard it felt like a steel rod trapped against Sam's firm belly. "What if... what if I changed my mind? What if I wanted to stop," he asked hotly, mouth slipping to the side of Sam's face.

Sam stilled, breaths panting out as he drew his head back to look down at Dean, "Stop?" he swallowed, "the change?" he dipped his head, lips brushing against Dean's cheekbones, his eye lids. "You can't," Sam told him softly, "once it begins, there is no stopping it," _unless I kill you_ , Sam shook his head, "And if you refuse me, the Voltari..." he pressed his lips together, "Don't do that, I can't bare to watch them kill you." Sam told him softly. 

"But you'd stop... now... if I told you?" Dean asked again, his body raging with need... a need that wouldn't be denied, despite his words testing Sam.

Sam's jaw clenched, muscle twitching. "I -" he sighed, his gaze dropping away from Dean's, "Yes." Whatever it too, yes, he would stop. 

Dean believed Sam, believed the pain in his eyes, and knew how hard it would be for the vampire who'd been obsessing over him for so long. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "I think... I think maybe you should fuck me now. You said once you wanted to come inside me and ... claim me at the same time." 

Sam sucked in a startled breath, as he turned his head, dark eyes intent on Dean's face as he swallowed hard. "Yeah," he breathed the word, nodding. Heat flooded Sam's system, the feeling swirling and tightening in his gut, making his dead heart ache. 

"Let's rock and roll." Dean answered. "It's... time." He felt Sam's fingers bite into his flesh, sucked in his breath but didn't complain.

Sam dipped his head, lips brushing against Dean's lips, then coming back for open mouthed kisses. One arm wrapped around Dean's body, the other lower, sliding under his thigh, hefting it up, knee toward his chest, Sam's hard cock sliding between Dean's ass cheeks and along his tight hole. As his cock teased Dean's entrance, he kissed Dean completely, hotly, passionately, tongues tangling, head sliding from side to side, low moans and grunted groans breaking from his throat.

Dean's senses were overwhelmed. Sam was everywhere, touching him, rearranging his body, right there... there for him. His scent... his taste made Dean's head spin. If a human could be addicted to a person, then he was that human... because he craved Sam with every cell in his body, wanted him that bad. Kissing him back with everything he had, he lifted his hips, pressing his hole against the blunt tip of Sam's cock, needing Sam inside him, showing him what he needed by the motions of his body, and the sounds he made against Sam's mouth.

Sam slowly lifted his head, eyes intent on Dean's, lips parted, breaths panting out as his hand slid from around Dean's thigh, reaching down to grasp his own cock, aligning it with Dean's tight hole. "I love you," Sam whispered softly, before his lips crushed against Dean's once more, his hips thrusting his hard cock into Dean's ass. 

"I--" Dean's response was cut off. Between the blinding pain from Sam's cock breaching his tight ring of muscle and invading him, and the pleasure of being filled by Sam, feeling him inside, feeling how hard Sam was and knowing ... by the desperation of his kisses and the motions of his body... how needy he was, time stood still for Dean. The pain eased as he adjusted to Sam's body, instinct took over and time sped up again. Giving himself up to the terrible need torturing him, Dean fucked up against Sam, kissing him back with everything he had. His legs locked around the vampire's waist, hands wrapping around the lengths of chain on either side of his body, using both to drag Sam close each time the vampire thrust. Harder, longer strokes, sending Dean careening out of control, making him clench around his lover's cock as he mindlessly writhed.

As Sam was pulled down harder against Dean, his arm around Dean moved, sliding down between them to wrap his hand around Dean's cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts dee[ into his human. Pulling his head back slightly, knowing his human needed to breath, Sam trailed open mouth kisses along Dean's jaw, back to his neck, along his throat to the pulse point in his neck, his tongue darting out as the sound of Dean's heartbeats echoed inside his head, pulsing his tongue against the tender flesh. Sam's teeth ached, blood pounded in his temples, low moans and soft groans tearing from his throat.

Dean whimpered, his body reacting to the presence of Sam's mouth on his throat... his blood rushing just a little faster for the vampire, pulsing just a little louder. He arched his neck, trying to chase Sam's wet tongue, rubbing against his mouth... offering himself up... begging to be claimed, even as Sam was claiming him with each thrust of his hips, fucking him harder and harder, Dean drawing him inside, pulling on him. He was on fire, burning up. "Can't... can't take more, Sam. Gonna come... gonna..."

Liquid heat moved through Sam's veins, pooled low in his belly, his fangs enlongating, lips parting slowly, brushing against Dean's neck. "Come," Sam whispered thickly, against the sensitive flesh, as his own balls drew up tight, muscles clenching as he opened his mouth and sank his fangs deep into Dean's jugular.

At Sam's command, Dean's entire body tensed, his balls drawing up tight against his body, and then releasing hard, shouting out Sam's name as he came, wet heat smeared between their bucking bodies. They were both still coming when a searing pain had him crying out. "Anghhh..." If he hadn't been locked in the grasp of lust, he might have tried to fight, but within seconds, new sensations, erotic, indescribable, were shooting through his veins and making him buck up against Sam all over again. "Oh God... baby.... need..." It was like a thousand tongues, licking him, from the inside and out, burning him, enflaming his desire and all he could hear echoing in his head was Sam's soft voice, calling him _mate_ , claiming him.

Sam's arm wrapped tightly around his human as a low growled groan tore from his throat, his body continuing to convulse, the sensation of orgasming still echoing through him, even as his body was spent, having filled Dean's ass with his spunk. Blood rushed over his tongue, down Dean's his throat. Warm and wet, sweeter than any candy, finer than any wine, smoother than brandy. It tasted like tears and strength, courage and love, laughter long dead and sunshine that was soon to be forgotten. Tears filled Sam's eyes behind closed lids as he drank. Fingertips digging into Dean's flesh as he clung to his hunter, his _mate_ tightly.

"Mmm... good," Dean muttered, moaning as Sam lapped at his throat and held him like he'd never let go, kept him safe and sheltered, from pain, from the Voltari, from every threat.

Sam's eyes rolled up into his head as a low moan sounded in his throat. Dean tasted so good... so damn good, he thought he might just cum again with the sensations shooting through his system. As he drank, his hips started to buck against Dean, his cock thrusting into him harder, needing him.

Sensing Sam was getting turned on all over again, Dean groaned and started to move against him... wanting this to be as beautiful as the last time they'd made love. Instead, the area where Sam's mouth was working against his skin started to sting hard, the sting spreading..., starting to burn like a hot iron was going over his flesh. What the... "No... Sam... oh fuck, Sam... hurts ... burns, Sam?!"

Sam drank deeper, moaning against his throat. Good so good...

Dean started to struggle, started to kick, trying to knock Sam off him as the pain increased in intensity. "Something's wrong... Sam, it's wrong... SAM!," eyes rolled back, he started to shout as every part of him felt like he'd been dipped in some acid pit and was dissolving into nothingness.

 _No, not wrong. Right, so damn right. Oh God...._ Sam fought to pin Dean under him better, continuing to thrust into him as he drank, never stopping, continuously sucking, licking, lapping at the blood that oozed out, spilling over Sam's tongue and down his throat. So warm and rich, thick and strong. Perfect. Just like Sam knew it would be.

"Sam..." his voice grew weaker, even in its accusation, as the pain started to dull and was replaced by a coldness like he'd never felt before.

Slowly, Sam pulled his fangs from Dean's neck, feeling Dean's body shudder and tremble. "Shshsh, I got ya," Sam whispered softly before cutting open the flesh of his forearm at the wrist and offering it to Dean's cold lips. "Drink, baby," Sam told him softly, nuzzling against the side of Dean's head, "drink, it's alright."

His body was almost paralyzed. He didn't even know if he could swallow. He didn't wanna... a part of him just wanted to die. _Why?_ He couldn't mouth the word, but he stared up at his so called mate who was supposed to protect him, not hurt him like this.

Sam waited a moment for Dean to latch onto his arm, when he didn't, Sam pumped his hand, clenching it into a fist, then releasing, making the blood drip into Dean's mouth.

"Come on, baby, swallow it, it's okay, I gotcha." Sam told him softly, leaning down to kiss Dean's jaw. "Drink," Sam whispered into Dean's ear, "Be mine forever."


	9. Chapter 9

_Mine forever._ That did it. Dean started to suck and swallow the tangy liquid. His stomach roiled... protested, and then it was as if his body recognized the blood was like a salve... an anti venom for the burning pain. Almost wild with hunger, Dean's fingers dug into Sam's forearm as he gripped him tight and started to drink faster, drawing as much of the life giving liquid as he could, needing it... feeling it sweep the burning and numb sensations out of his body.

Sam raised his head as soon as Dean started to drink, a low groan sounding deep in his throat as Dean latched onto his arm. Biting his lip, Sam started to move again on Dean, inside him, thrusting his hips as he closed his eyes slowly, allowing Dean to take what he needed to be his forever, coming inside him one more time.

Too soon, Sam knew he had to pull his arm away. "Dean, that's enough, you've had enough," Sam told him softly, "come on, baby, let go."

It felt too good, the way it nullified the pain. There was something else too, it was like taking Sam inside him, a different way but having him be a part of him, a way not many would understand. Snarling under his breath, Dean refused and greedily took more, sucking harder, gripping Sam tighter.

"Dean!" Sam spoke his name louder, in a warning tone, "Let go," he said, trying to pull his arm from Dean's grasp. When Dean would not release him, Sam lowered his head, fangs at Dean's neck, "Let. go., Dean." He dragged his fangs over the tender flesh of Dean's neck. "You've hand enough. No more." Sam tugged his arm, this time freeing it from Dean's grasp.

Once he was cut off from the supply of fresh vampire blood, all the good sensations were gone. Dean could hear his heart... hear it slowing. He could feel his organs shutting down one by one. Eyes wide, he stared at Sam. "More... need more... dying," he rasped, mind a mess of confusion. Why... why was Sam doing this to him?

Sam nodded slowly, "I know, baby. I know. It's okay, let it happen, let it happe," he whispered leaning his head down to nuzzle Dean's neck, feeling his heart slow, skip a few beats, then stop all together.

_All that was left now, was the waiting._

Even knowing that your love had to die to be turned, it didn't make it any easier for Sam. It didn't dampen the slight panic that welled up or ease the emotions that squeezed his dead heart. It didn't make the process any less painful, because, for all the knowing, somewhere in there, the part of him that remembered life and knew how fragile it was, became lost to dark possibilities.

Sam wrapped his arms tightly around Dean as he held him, rolling them over so that Deans head and shoulders were pillowed by his chest, his head tucked against Sam's neck as he ran a hand absently through his hair. 

*

Everything was pitch black. Darker than anything Dean had ever seen, like he imagined space would be without stars and suns. Someone had put black ink in front of his eyes. He might not be able to see, but he realized he could hear. Real well. Too well. He could hear the wind outside, the rustling of trees. He could hear the cars, and even what people inside them said. He could hear a mouse squeaking, and yet he knew it was miles away.

And then he realized he wasn't breathing.

Sucking in a big lungful of air, he jacknifed up. His heart should be pounding loudly in his ears but wasn't. His pulse should be out of control, but it wasn't... it wasn't there. And then his eyes started to clear and he reached for Sam's shoulder. "What ... what's happening to me?"

Sam reached out to run the back of a finger down the side of Dean's face. "Nothing is happening to you, Dean. It already _has_ happened. You're a vampire now. _My_ vampire, my mate, forever."

Dean started to tremble. "I can't breathe." It was true, he had to think... make himself breathe or it wasn't happening. "So many sounds." He met Sam's gaze, then touched his own heart, troubled by the sound of silence.

Sam sat up slowly next to Dean. "You can breathe, you just need to think about it now to do it." Sam shook his head, "it's not _required_ anymore." A small smile tugged at Sam's lips, "Yes, the noise can be distracting, but you'll learn to block it out." He raised a hand, covering Dean's on his chest, "It's still there, it just doesn't beat anymore, it has no reason to," he told him softly, as he patiently explained away Dean's fears.

Looking down, Dean moved his hand over Sam's, still trying to process everything. He swallowed, breathed in Sam's comforting scent, then whispered. "I want to see what I look like." He had to have changed.

Sam smiled softly, "You look the same, your eyes change color and you have vampire allure now," he gave a soft huff, "not that you need it, you're beautiful. " He leaned in and brushed his lips across Dean's. "We'll go upstairs as soon as you are stable and can walk."

Still trembling, Dean was quiet for a while, occasionally touching his lips to Sam's or his throat, or jaw... each time he felt the onset of fear of the future, and of what he had turned into. It felt like he was in a dream, part of him believing what was happening, another part thinking this could not be happening. He pressed his thumbnail into his thigh, pressed it hard and not feeling pain, pressed harder, dragging it up his bare skin and leaving a thin red line that started to bleed.

 

Sam silently watched Dean, one hand holding loosely onto Dean's, allowing the truth, reality to set in, letting Dean come to grips with the fact that he was no longer human, but one of the undead.

Dean's nostrils flared. Hunger surged. Swooping down, he licked up his thigh, drinking every drop and watching... as if mesmerized... his wound close, and heal. "I... I'm a vampire," he nodded, licking his lips. He wanted more, more blood, but shame washed over him, and he couldn't say the words.

Sam sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, nostrils flaring as he watched the small crimson ribbon appear on Dean's thigh, watched as his mate lapped it away hungrily. As he pulled his head back, both their gazes glued on the wound. After it healed, Sam answered,"You are." Leaning in, he brushed his lips against Dean's neck, his ear, "and I know you must be starving." He squeezed Dean's hand, "let's go eat," he coaxed his love softly as he slowly started to pull to his feet, reaching out to grab up their clothes.

He'd chosen this. He was gonna face this. Dean nodded, and accepted Sam's help getting dressing, feeling less and less unsteady as the moments slipped by. As they stepped over the shackles and walked out of the cage, Dean reached for Sam's hand, threading his fingers through the vampire's... the other vampire's. His eyes met Sam's, and why he thought the look in Sam's eyes would have changed, he didn't know. But Sam was looking at him like he always did, in a way that left no doubt in his mind that he was wanted.

* * *

Over the next three weeks, Dean learned to control his hunger and to feed in the way of the Cullens. The compulsion to seek human blood was there, pulsing under the surface, but Dr. Carlisle had said he seemed to be lucky that it wasn't as strong as in most newly made vampires. Maybe it was the fact that Dean had spent nearly 30 years of his life protecting human blood, maybe that instinct had survived the transformation. 

Hunting and feeding on animals, mostly deer, it hadn't been as hard as Dean had imagined. When that hunger for blood gnawed in the pit of his stomach, and in every cell in his body, when his hunger rose... nothing could stop him from tearing his meal to get to its life blood, nothing. Sam had taught him to feed before he was at the mercy of such hunger, it was safer that way, for others.

He and Sam had a lot of fun as he discovered his new strength and speed. They climbed trees and mountains and raced. They competed, and celebrated victory by fucking each others' brains out. If he hadn't had Sam, Dean thought he might go crazy... so many hours, none of them for sleeping. But Sam was always there to entertain, to teach, to love. 

After he'd had a chance to threaten to kick Ros' ass for everything she'd put him through, they'd started to get along. It was weird, it was like he'd really gained a family overnight. That theory was proven right the night the Voltari arrived. They were men in fine suits who spoke in Italian accents and were arrogant as hell. They had powers, each of them different ones, from the ability to read minds to hurting you from a distance. The Cullens had congregated around him when the Voltari questioned him until they were satisfied that he would not bring any danger or reveal the existence of vampires. It was strange that they could read his emotions that accurately, but once Sam's brother Jasper came back from his trip, he started to get used to being read since Jasper had the power of reading and manipulating emotions. He understood now that the Voltari were very organized and would not allow any human, who had knowledge of the existence of vampires, to live. They also had no qualms about killing vampires, that's why he had been grilled on his intent. 

Now that he was self sufficient, Dean knew it was time to leave. He loved Sam, he really did. But he couldn't lose his sense of self and he wanted to be sure Sam meant what he'd promised him. That he had a choice in his life, that he wasn't his prisoner. The truth was, without his family's help, Sam probably couldn't imprison him ever again, but Dean wanted him to 'let go'... which was a different ball game altogether. 

Last night, when they'd been making love, Dean had made sure that the Sting album was playing. He'd felt Sam tense when he heard the words _If you love someone, set them free._ Knew Sam understood the time had come, and they'd made love that much the harder. 

* * *

Sam walked to the door of his bedroom, gazing in at Dean for a long moment, leaning against the door jam, just silently standing there watching his mate. Tearing his gaze away, Sam hung his head, his dead heart aching. With a soft sigh, Sam pulled away from the door, raising his head, golden hazel meeting golden green. "I - I have something to show you," Sam told him, reaching a hand out, waiting for Dean to take it, so he could lead him outside to his car. Sam and Emmett had hidden it deep in the woods before. Now, Sam had pulled the Impala up to the front of the house where sat waiting in the driveway for Dean.

"Oh yeah, is it in your pants?" Dean grinned, giving Sam his hand, expecting a joke of some sort.

Sam gave a small sad smile, as he shook his head, pulling him from the room and down the stairs. Unable to speak and not knowing how to say 'goodbye'... words that hurt too much, he remained silent as they made their way to the door. Stepping out of the house, Sam stopped dead in his tracks as he nodded toward the car, his grasp on Dean's hand sliding away. As their eyes met, Sam tried to offer a small smile, but it was flat and sad. "Keeping my promise," Sam told him softly.

"My car! My bab--" Dean's gaze had flicked to the Impala, but was back and locked with Sam's, the sadness in Sam's eyes making him lose his enthusiasm. "It's my... my _other_ baby," he told Sam, trying to tell him he still loved him. Each time he'd said the words, he'd sensed that Sam wasn't buying it. That he still maybe felt like he was being used as a ticket out or whatever. "Thanks for... for taking care of her." 

Sam cleared his throat, nodding. "Of course," he gave a small tight smile, tearing his gaze away from Dean to look at the car a moment, before his gaze met Dean's again. "I'll miss you," he said softly.

"Me too." Dean opened his arms and hugged Sam tight, pulling him along as he walked backwards toward the car until his back was against it. "I'll miss you. Everything about you, Sam. Mostly miss the way you look at me, like I matter." His hand slipped up the side of Sam's neck to cup his cheek, his thumb brushing over Sam's lips. "I hope you know... you _see_ that I look at you like that too."

Sam swallowed and hung his head a moment before raising it once more, "I _know_ that that would make me very happy," he gave a small smile. It was the best he could offer. He wasn't going to allow himself to dare to believe otherwise. He'd learned the hard way before how very well the hunter, _his mate,_ could lie, use him, hurt him. Sam raised a hand to cup Dean's face, thumb running along his cheekbone."Take good care of yourself, if -" he licked his lips, glancing toward the house, "if you ever need a family to come back to," he nodded, "we'll be here."

"Sam you have my number. I am _not_ dropping off the face of the earth. I'm not dropping out of your life." What he saw mirrored back at him was only doubt. It made him angry, and sad, and he didn't understand it. Leaning in, he kissed Sam, almost savagely, trying to make him see, make him know the truth. Yeah he would miss him, miss his kisses, miss his company. God, he'd miss not feeling that certain look... the one that bordered on obsession, the one Dean loved to tease out of Sam, just by letting him get a glimps of something that would hold his attention, or by licking his lips too often. "Need you to believe in me," he said at last, pulling away, eyes stinging, which was ridiculous because he wasn't planning on being gone long.

Sam gave a small nod, taking a step back ward toward the house, his hand dropping away from Dean. "I'll," he hung his head then lifted it, jaw clenched as tears stung his eyes. "I'll see ya around then." He gave another nod, then turned on the balls of his feett toward the house. In the next breath, Sam was gone, the front door closing slowly behind him a few moments later.

* * *

Time passed slowly for Sam, each day seemed to drag by now that his mate was gone, never to return. He'd closed himself off from his family, barely speaking to any of them anymore as he sat up in his room. Everything that Dean had touched, each article of clothing, blanket, anything with his scent on it, Sam seemed to obsess on.

Walking through his room his fingertips trailed along his television set as he thought of Dean watching TV and laughing. A few moments later the TV lay in shambles on the floor of his bedroom, the pain too fresh, the sight of the television taunting, a haunting reminder of what he had lost, what he never really had.

A few days ago, when Sam had found the t-shirt that Dean had worn last missing from his room, he had torn through the house in search of it, tearing apart the place in the process. It had taken Jasper's calming abilities and Emmett holding Sam back to get him to stop wrecking the house. Finding that Esme had washed the shirt had Sam's knees buckling out from under him, his body slipping to the floor in defeat. Another part of Dean that he had lost. Something else he would never have back.

At twilight, Sam clung to the items that remained, curling in the blanket that Dean used, the one that he had bought for him. He laid out in the yard, fighting, fighting so hard against his nature, his need to go find his mate and force him back, to not care what promises he had made, only caring about easing the ache in his dead heart.

Finally, nearly three weeks later, the desire to track Dean down and bring him back had gotten so strong and Sam's emotions were in such turmoil that he had begged his family to lock him in the cage in the basement. There, curled on his side on the floor, the blanket wrapped around him, Sam gave himself over to the near madness that had set in.

* * *

In his time away from Sam, traveling across the country the way he used to, Dean learned a lot of things. 

For one thing, _he really wasn't human._ While he could pretend and fool a lot of people, he couldn't fool hunters who'd known him. After having had to hurt three hunters, he stopped trying to look up old friends. He had to be dead to them, or he might be their death.

For another thing, _he really was vampire._ The words 'love' and 'mate' were different when applied to vampires, they had to be. He'd had girlfriends and had no trouble leaving 'em behind for weeks, he hadn't thought he would have this much trouble leaving Sam behind. Sure he'd expected he'd miss him. But missing him was one thing... missing him like a part of his body had been cut out, that was another.

A loneliness, one not born out of his inability to mix with hunters because he'd never really done much of that, haunted him. Every single day it ate at his soul, this deep seated need to see Sam, to hear his voice, to feel his hands on him, to breathe in his scent, to taste his lips, his skin, to prove to himself again and again that there was someone out there that belonged only to him. He'd been planning to be away for a month, and then to go back to forks, get a motel room, and then go in to see Sam. To try to maybe show Sam that they could go out, be a normal couple, with neither of them freaking out if the other wasn't around.

So much for plans. Three weeks later, he was pounding at the Cullen's front door and asking for Sam. When he was told Sam was in the basement, he felt a jealous burst of anger. Who else did Sam have down there?

He managed to beat down his emotions and headed to the door that took him down the stairs to where he'd had some of the worst and best moments of his life. "Sam?" When he approached the cage, he tried the door, then leaned his forehead against the bars. 

"What are you doing in there. Sam?" He could see Sam curled up much the way Dean had been in that same spot, with a blanket on him. "C'mere."

Insanity. That's what it was, it was why he was hearing Dean's voice now, why he was smelling his phantom scent, why he was almost sure that if he opened his eyes, he would see Dean standing there. Sam huffed softly at himself. He would see Dean standing there only to have the image slowly dissolve away as it had hundreds of times before. As it did every time he stroked himself to completion, Dean's blanket thrown over his nose and mouth, inhaling his scent.

Sam's body moved slightly as he curled in on himself more, his grip on the blanket tightening. "S'not real," Sam whispered to himself, head shaking slightly, a soft wounded sound breaking from his throat, eyes squeezing shut more tightly.

Dean flashed back on images of Sam smelling the blanket, his shirt, sniffing it for his scent. Every muscle in his stomach tightened and his jeans started to feel too snug at his groin. "I smell better than that blanket. Taste better too, and I promise not to leave fuzz balls in your mouth," he said, voice a little hoarse. "C'mere, Sam."

Sam slowly turned his head, lashes fluttering. If the mirage was going to stand there taunting him, he might as well hurry up and look at it, so it could disappear and Sam could go back to his quiet nothingness again. Opening his eyes slowly, Sam's lips slowly curved into a smile as he looked at Dean. "Still so beautiful," he murmured softly, as a tear ran down his cheek, across the bridge of his nose, falling onto the blanket under his head.

"Still yours," he answered, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

A soft harsh chuckle broke from Sam's lips, before he rolled over onto his back, sniffling softly. "You're not real," Sam muttered quietly as he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Hurry up and disintegrate into nothingness for me, 'kay? This hurts too much."

"I'm real...come lemme show you," he looked around. "Where are the fucking keys? I'm real Sam, kiss me," he crouched down, putting his arm through the bars. "Take my hand, baby. Tell you what, you take my hand and I'll give you the best damned blow job you've ever had. All that time apart... I got all these ideas in my head."

Sam's eyes opened to stare at the hand that the illusionary image offered. Knowing it would simply break away and vanish as soon as he got close to it, but needing to try. Sam slowly raised a hand, reaching out toward Dean, too far away from the bars to completely grasp it. Fingertips brushed and slid together, curling around Dean's, holding. Sam sucked in a ragged breath, eyes widening as he rolled over onto his stomach, pulling up to his knees and one hand. Moving across the floor, Sam made his way over to the bars, his hand sliding more into Dean's as he moved, until they were holding hands fully and Sam's face was near the bars. He swallowed hard, eyes closing briefly, another tear sliding down his cheek, before Sam opened his eyes, golden hazel locking with golden green, "Dean?"

"I told you I'd be back." Dean's gaze moved hungrily over Sam's face. Pushing his other hand through the bars, he hooked his finger over Sam's collar, and dragged him up against the bars. Aiming carefully, he kissed away the tear, then slid his mouth over Sam's, tasting the salty tears, and Sam. God he'd missed him. Moving his hand through another bar, he cupped the back of Sam's head, moving his mouth back and forth. "Missed you... harder than I thought. Love you Sam, love you like whoa."

Yes, Dean had said he would be back, but Sam had never believed it. Had thought it was another lie in Dean's bid for freedom, had resigned himself to the fact. _He would never see Dean again_ , and the fact had nearly killed him, or at least driven him mad. As Dean kissed away his tear and moved over his mouth, Sam gave a soft moan. His dead heart ached, but this time, it was almost a good ache. Joy at seeing his mate again so much that Sam had to fight back the need to shed more damn tears. 

Sam chuckled through the emotions nearly choking him, his smile so wide that his dimples showed, love in his eyes as he looked at Dean. "Love me?" he sniffled, "yeah?" he reached through the bars, cupping Dean's neck and pulling him in to brush his lips across his mates once more. "God I've missed you so much." Sam whispered, breath fanning Dean's lips, the tender flesh of them brushing against Dean's as he spoke.

"Me too." He kissed Sam. "Know what you mean now. How it feels... when you have a mate... hurts to be alone," he nodded, kissing him again. "Don't want to leave you Sam, not ever. Not more than a few hours, maybe a day or so. Need you... in my life, every day." The words spilled from Dean's mouth far easier than he thought they would. 

Sam sucked in a ragged breath, "Really?"

"Swear. I swear Sam." He stared intently into Sam's eyes. "Do I need to break you out of there?"

Sam's eyes widened, "No!" he blew out a breath, then smiled slightly, "I don't, uh, allow anything of yours to be broken or, um," he hung his head, looking slightly embarrassed, "washed." Sam gave a small cough, peeking up at Dean from under his brows. "Besides, it's pretty tough stuff, I don't know if you could break it actually," he pressed his lips together and raised his head, looking past Dean at the far wall, "the keys are hanging on the wall over there." Sam jutted his chin toward them, his gaze meeting Dean's again, "I had to lock myself in here so that I could keep my promise."

Dean swallowed. Sam was on the other side of those bars, reminding him of the time he'd asked how Sam would feel if their circumstances were reversed. "You're still obsessed." One hand gripping the bar, he closed his eyes. "Tell me why I find that so hot. I shouldn't."

Sam gave a small nod, "Guess so." He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Why shouldn't it be? You're thinking like a human again, not a vampire."

"Yeah..." Dean gave a shaky laugh and stepped away, returning with the key. 

Sam pulled to his feet as he watched Dean walk across the room, then back.

A moment later, Dean had the door open and was stepping inside, head cocked to one side as he took the last step so their mouths slanted unerringly across each others'. This time there were no bars separating them and Dean took full advantage, pressing himself up against Sam's hard frame, hands on his hips, tongue desperately moving in and out of his lover's... his mate's... mouth.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, kissing him hard, giving as good as he got, moaning into the kiss, clinging to his love, his mate. Slowly pulling his head back, his nostrils flared as he at looked at Dean, smelling another's scent on him.

"We, you and I need to talk." Sam told Dean tightly, the scent coming from Dean making itself more and more a problem for Sam. Vampires were _possessive_ , not liking anyone else to touch what was theirs. The fact that someone had, in fact, _touched_ Dean in some way, was a problem. A very big problem.

"I figured there would be talking," Dean nodded, eyes locked with Sam's, a bit surprised they were gonna do this before they had welcome back sex. "I said we're together, I meant it. We'll figure out how... how its gonna work, but you promised freedom and I'm keeping that. I walk in and out like I want." He might love this vampire, and he might even find his obsession sexy, but he had to lay down ground rules for their future.

Sam nodded, "What I have to say has nothing to do with locked doors or guards... but it _is_..." Sam pressed his lips together eyeing Dean, "important. _Very_ important," Sam told him, eyes slowly darkening, even as he stood gazing into Dean's eyes.

"Where do you want to talk?"

"My room," Sam nearly ground out as images of someone else touching what was _his_ danced in his mind.

Dean licked his lips as he passed Sam, giving him a sidelong glance. "You alright? You seem a bit... tense. Look if it's about me leaving..."

Sam's narrowed eyes followed Dean. "This really should wait for my room."

Heading up the stairs and to the hall, Dean followed Sam to the stairs off the family room, leading to the bedrooms.

Sam motioned for Dean to lead the way up the stairs before looking back over his shoulder. "No one comes to my room until after tomorrow," Sam ground out, before following after Dean.

"What..." he turned back, but seeing the forbidding look on Sam's face and knowing how implacable he could be, Dean bit down on his questions and just marched up the stairs and into Sam's bedroom. Once inside, he went to lean against book shelf, trying to appear casual. 

Sam entered his room closing and locking the door behind him before turning to look at Dean. He stood there for half a minute, then with vampire speed, was on Dean, slamming him back against the wall, his body pressed close, face inches away from Dean's as he breathed in deeply, nostrils flaring. "Who touched you?" Sam asked through gritted teeth, "And don't lie to me, I can smell their stink all over you."

Sure, Sam knew Dean was just as strong as he was, could fight back. But this wasn't about fighting, it wasn't about who was stronger, it was about a vampire and his mate and the possessiveness that ran through every vampire's veins. About Sam's need to know and to teach Dean who he belonged to.

"What?" Dean's eyes widened at the question from out of left field. Sam was crowding him, and there wasn't a hint of mirth in his expression. Sensing Sam's dangerous mood, he didn't shove him back or crack a joke. "I haven't been with anyone. I only thought about you, there's no one else for me now."

Sam snarled, eyes inky black, "I told you not to lie to me, someone touched you," he leaned his head in, his face against Dean's neck as he inhaled, "I can smell them," Sam grabbed Dean's wrists and raised them, pressing them against the wall as he inserted his thigh between Dean's and pressed in. "Who were they? What did they mean to you?" Sam demanded, breath fanning over the delicate skin of Dean's neck, tongue darting out to run slowly up against his skin.

"What the fuck, dude..." Dean held an unneeded breath as Sam's thigh brushed against his cock, then pressed. He searched his face again, trying to decide what the hell Sam was getting at. That predatory stance of his was starting to worry Dean a little, not to mention getting him hot at an inopportune moment. "I don't know what you're talking about, I just told you... I haven't fucking slept with anyone, okay?" The intensity of Sam's inspection was making him tense... like something was about to break, only he had no idea why. He pulled his wrists up from the wall, but let them bang back against it, "cut it out, Sam. We're not _back there_ again. We're not playing prisoner and guard, not unless I say."

Sam pulled his head up, shaking it slowly. "Not prisoner, Dean, _mate_ , you're _mine_ and I don't like someone else's stink on you. I never said you slept with someone," Sam's expression went deadly as he spoke those words, before easing slightly. If Sam had thought that Dean had actually _slept_ with someone else, all bets would be off and someone would be dying. "Someone _touched_ you in some way...." Sam took a deep breath in again and bared his fangs, "And I'm gonna get their smell off of you."

"Touched me... Lots of people touch me, Sam," he leaned away from Sam's fangs. "You've got to be kidding me." He sucked his breath in as Sam leaned in even closer, his eyes glazed. "Sam?"

Sam's mouth descended on Dean's collarbone, as he tugged his shirts to the side, stretching the neck of the tee and making his over shirt nearly fall off a shoulder. His mouth latched onto the bone sucking and nipping gently, tongue running over the skin, then sucking hard again as a low growl sounding deep in his throat.

Despite the manhandling, a groan slipped out of Dean. "Sam..." he felt shaky on the inside, and it had nothing to do with any inability to stop his mate, if he wanted to.

Pulling his head up, Sam shook it slowly. "Not brushed you, not took something from your hand, had their arms on you, had their body pressed to yours, I can smell too much for it to be less." His lips curled baring fang, "DON'T," the single word was bit out harshly "ever do it again."

"I..." Dean jerked back slightly at the vehemence and threat in Sam's voice, searching his mind. Remembering, he let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Sam, an old friend... he just gave me a hug. You know, like this." Putting a now freed arm over Sam's shoulder, he slugged him on the back a couple times. "No bid deal... seriously overkill with the jealousy here. Guy's like eighty." 

Sam's lips turned up into a smile, but it was a dangerous one. "Then you won't mind losing his scent," Sam told him, as he all but started to rip Dean's clothes from his body, tugging open the button of his jeans and parting the zipper, just by grabbing two sides of the denim and yanking. He moved his hand to pull Dean's over shirt down one arm, his tee up his chest as his hand on Dean's jeans made it's way under the denim and the cotton of Dean's boxers to cup him, slowly stroking as coal black eyes gazed into green.

"He didn't touch me there," Dean's head snapped back, partly from how quickly Sam moved to undress him and partly because of the sudden pleasure coursing through him. He gripped Sam's hips, biting his lip as Sam cupped and stroked him, quickly getting him hard and heavy. His breaths panted out, he watched Sam's face, knowing something was still going on behind that strong, handsome face... something that maybe he should be careful about. "Sam... oh fuck... Sam," he tugged him closer. Sam's eyes seemed glazed over, with that same obsessed look he got once in a while. "Don't be angry... I came back. I want only you, only you Sam."

Sam's lips turned upward a bit more, a small low snarl working out of him before he leaned in and slanted his mouth over Dean's kissing him hard, tongue delving deep into his mouth, mapping him out, tangling with Dean's then fucking his mouth with his tongue hard and fast, his body pressed up against Dean's as his hand stoked Dean under his boxers.

Pulling his head back, Sam leaned in, his lips at Dean's neck, slid slowly over the sensitive flesh, fangs dragging lightly. "That's what I'm gonna do to you now, what my tongue did to your mouth. I'm gonna fuck you and get rid of his stink from you. When I'm done," he pressed his lips to Dean's throat, "everyone, vampire and human, will know you're mine." Sam told him softly. 

Dean was still reeling from the sensations sweeping his body, his mouth burning, his cock aching, need coiling low in his belly, when Sam made his pronouncement. His breath hitched. "I think they already know that, Sam," he said, swaying close. "Kiss me. Fuck me... like you did my mouth. I'm yours, I know that now. You know it too Sam." Licking his lips, he crushed them against Sam's, his arms closing around his lover's waist, holding him tight, rubbing against him.

Sam pulled his hand out of Dean's jeans as he moved to wrap his arms around him, one hand going to the back of Dean's head, the other flat and splayed in the center of Dean's back. He turned them and backed Dean toward the lounge, all the while they kissed hungrily, passionately, Sam's tongue plundering Dean's mouth, his fangs scraping the tender flesh of his lips.

When the back of Dean's legs hit the lounge, Sam pressed him back, going down with him, their lips parting as their controlled fall ended. Sam dipped his head, sucking the tender flesh of Dean's neck into his mouth hard enough to bruise as his teeth ached and blood pounded in his temples.

"Mmm, yeah..." Dean muttered, doing some exploring of his own, groping his lover, rubbing his mouth on him where he could, lifting his hips to get a bit of contact with his body. "Missed you... God Sam, I fuckin' missed you."

Pulling a hand out from under Dean, Sam shoved down on his jeans, wanting them off Dean, wanting him naked under him. His hand shoved at one side then the other as his other hand stayed, cupping the back of Dean's head, his lips at his throat, his neck, before finally, Sam pulled his other hand out and sat back, straddling Dean's thighs, pulling his jeans down as he backed up. "Off, now," he looked up at Dea., "Shirts too, take them off, I want you naked under me, want to feel you."

Protesting the sudden loss of Sam on top of him, Sam's words got through to him. "You too... naked," he demanded, pushing up on his elbows and peeling his shirt off, then tugging his tee up over his head. He was stripped in no time, and reaching for Sam, needing him.

They were both undressed in no time and Sam was already crawling up his body. "What was that you said about fucking me?" Dean asked, rubbing himself up against Sam, closing his arms around him, dragging him down. "Show me," he demanded, crushing his mouth against Sam's, pushing his tongue inside and reminding him exactly how he'd promised to fuck him. 

Sam groaned deep in his throat as he kissed Dean, thrusting against him and making their cocks slide together, grinding against him as his hands slid down and up Dean's sides, then to went to each side of his face. He moved Dean's head from side to side, deepening the kiss, teeth clanking, fingers threading through Dean's short hair. At the kiss heated up, Sam reached for Dean's hands, lacing their fingers together. He tore his lips away from Dean's and started to kiss a trail down his jaw, his neck and chest, making his way slowly lower as he worked his mouth over Dean's flesh, giving open mouthed kissing, his tongue darting out to flick and lick at certain areas before going lower.

"Yeah... fuck yeah," Dean groaned, lifting his body first this way, then the other, pressing himself up against Sam's mouth. With each touch of his wet tongue and mouth, Sam left scorching trails down Dean's body. "Good Sam... so good," he muttered, moving his head from side to side. His fingers clenched and unclenched around Sam's. "Baby... missed this so fucking bad. Don't know what I did before you... just know, I can't live without this... without you..." When Sam's tongue dipped inside his belly button, that was it... Dean couldn't string any more words together.

Sam glanced up at Dean's face from under his brows, a small smile tugging at his lips as he sucked the tender flesh around Dean's belly button into his mouth. He slowly worked his way lower, sliding between Dean's legs, laying on his stomach as he wrapped his hand around Dean's hard cock and ran his tongue up the underside, then swirled it around his tip. Sam's teeth ached, his blood pounded in his temples, low groans broke from his throat as he lapped at Dean's cock, finally opening his mouth wide and taking him deep, curling his lips in over his teeth, careful to avoid contact with his fangs.

Dean moaned and writhed, reaching out, touching Sam everywhere he could as he was licked, and teased and touched until he thought he was going out of his mind with need. Sam played his body like an instrument, like he knew where all his sensitive spots were, and made sure to pay attention to them. By the time he got to his cock, Dean was a mess of nerves. "Oh God yeah," he lifted, fucking Sam's fist and rubbing himself harder against Sam's mouth.

Pulling his head back, Sam worked Dean's spit-slick cock with his hand as he kissed Dean's hip and groin, his thumb running across the sensitive tip of Dean's cock as Sam pressed his tongue to his balls, giving them as much attention as he could with his mouth while working his cock with his hand.

Dean was rock hard and hurting with need. His sense of smell was sharper, he could smell Sam... could smell his arousal, and it was killing him, making his temples pound. And his teeth... God ... they ached. "S... Sam... my fangs, they're..." before he could finish talking, the razor sharp teeth cut the corner of Sam's mouth and suddenly Dean had his hand behind Sam's head, aggressively holding him in place as he sucked the area free of blood and moaned with desire for more.

Sam's lips parted as he held still, letting Dean suck his lip free of blood, his breaths panted out, eyes open to mere slits as he looked at his mate a soft half chuckle working out of him as he smiled almost drunkenly. "So good, baby... So good..." Sam leaned in, crushing his mouth to Dean's, kissing him hard. 

Pulling his head back, Sam leaned in once again, his mouth against Dean's throat, licking a path to his ear. "Bite me, s'okay," Sam told him softly before dipping his head and nipping Dean's neck, just enough to make blood pool to the surface before latching his mouth on and sucking the coppery crimson fluid away. Through it all, Sam's hand pumped Dean's cock mercilously, wrist pivoting. His own cock achingly hard, begged for attention.

An unholy groan broke from Dean as Sam drank from him, showing him this was normal, that it was good, that they could do this during sex... they never had before, but Sam had been sheltering him from blood when he'd first turned. Now he knew why. The scent of their blood was wreaking havoc with his senses, building his need, and he was so fucking confused about whether it was blood he was lusting after or Sam's body. He was thrusting mindlessly into Sam's fist, his mouth skimming the the side of Sam's neck, trying to decide what he wanted, where he needed to drink from.

Dean licked a path along Sam's collarbone, to his shoulder, pressing his fangs against it, piercing his flesh. Rivulets of coppery blood flowed down Sam's alabaster skin, with Dean moving his head to catch the flow, licking it clean and then sucking on the wound. His hands explored Sam's body, brushing over Sam's cock, then returning. He closed a fist around Sam's hard length and started to pump him, groaning when his lover got impossibly harder.

Sam's mouth tore from Dean's neck in an audible gasping of breath, a low long groan spilling from his lips at the feel of his love, his mate biting, drinking from him. "Oh God, s'hot, baby... feel so good..." Sam told him softly, hips bucking his aching erection into Dean's fist, his breaths panting air against Dean's throat, before Sam lowered his head once more, lapping at the crimson ribbons as they started to slide down Dean's smooth skin.

As bloodlust twined around his bodily needs, Dean closed his eyes and mindlessly thrust into Sam's fist, fucking it harder and harder, as his mouth stayed glued to Sam's shoulder. The lust for blood ... Sam's... was so strong, Dean wasn't sure he could control it. The more he coaxed out of the flesh wound, using his tongue and sucking, the more intense his need grew. Hot? He wanted hotter. Wanted an inferno. Would get it.

Growling, he reversed their positions so Sam was under him, mouth never leaving his shoulder, and not taking no for an answer. He pushed back onto his knees and he looked down at Sam, noting the heat in his lover's eyes, his gaze drawn by the sight of scarlet blood at the corner of his mouth and now on his shoulder. "Gonna mark you up," he said thickly, not knowing where those words ... where that need came from, only that it welled up inside him, and could not be fought.

Sam swallowed, teeth and cock aching. Eyes closing briefly, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, a low moan sounding deep in his throat at the taste of Dean's blood that remained. Eyes once more locking with Dean's, Sam gave a small nod, arching toward him, reaching for his love.

Lowering himself down over Sam, he pushed his hands away and dragged his razor sharp fangs across his chest, over his heart. He made another cut right below it, groaning at the sight of red over white skin. Smiling, but not 'quite there'... he lowered his head and started licking and sucking Sam's skin free of scarlet.

Sam's lips parted on a gasped sigh, panted breaths catching at the feel of Dean's fangs on his flesh, his mouth latching on, sucking, drinking his blood. Sam's hips bucked up, a low groan tearing from his throat, one hand reaching upward, digits sinking into the soft short strands of Dean's hair, tangling. "Mm, God, yeah..." Sam panted softly, breathlessly.

The motions of Sam's body under him renewed Dean's need. Pushing his knees under Sam's thighs spread wide, he started to fuck against him, thrusting, grinding their cocks together, feeding the flames of his desire, drinking Sam's sweet blood. Needing more, demanding it, he sank his teeth inside Sam's chest this time, lapping at him, wanting him with every cell in his body, his mind a red haze of erotic thoughts and images, drawing him deeper and deeper, until the world around him disappeared and he no longer knew even his own name. This was addiction. This was obsession. This was frenzy.

Sam's chest rose and fell with each breath, head rising from the pillows to lick at the already nearly healed wound at Dean's throat, sucking the flesh into his mouth, hips thrusting up against Dean's, low groans and moans breathing from his throat. 

Wrapping his arms around Dean's body, Sam started to roll them, only to have Dean push back, halting his efforts. Sam wiggled under him, hips bucking, sliding against Dean, arching as he offered his blood a moment longer before once more struggling to roll them, a low groaned growl tearing from his throat. Pressing his body in between Dean's legs, he thrust hard against him, making their cocks slid together. Sam dipped his head, mouth slanting over Dean's, kissing him hard, hungrily. Moaning into the kiss as tongues tangled and teeth knocked together, his hands running along Dean's sides, across his flesh, fingertips digging into his flesh.

"Sonova..." Dean cursed as he found himself on his back, his mouth covered by Sam's... and away from his blood source. His temples were pounding with need, his eyes dark as night, a hunger was building inside him with the fury of a hundred storms. "Need. Sam. Need, now!" he managed, arching practically off the lounge as he bucked up against his lover, trying to get as close as he could. 

Sam's lips slid down Dean's chin to his jaw, open mouthed kisses against his skin, dipping downward toward Dean's neck before Sam picked his head up, dark eyes gazing into dark. "Yeah, need you..." Sam told him, nodding slowly.

Pulling back, Sam kneeling between Dean's legs, hands running slowly down his thighs, his gaze still locked with Dean's before he tore it away and dipped his head, razer sharp fangs against the delicate skin between Dean's groin, thigh and hip as Sam held onto his hipbone, thumb rubbing small circles around the tender flesh as he ran his tongue along the thin line of scarlet, licking away the sting, the blood, lips closing over the wound, a low groan tearing from his throat. 

Pulling back, Sam looked up into Dean's face, tongue darting out to lick his lips, "Roll over for me."

The sharp pain brought Dean back, and now the sight of Sam with lips painted with his blood almost had him coming right there. As he sat up, he licked Sam from his belly up to the wounds closing over his heart, kissing him... licking his own blood off Sam's lips, before doing as he asked. On his hands and knees, he pushed backwards, rubbing his ass over Sam's groin, giving a low moan as he felt how hard Sam was against his bare flesh. 

Sam groaned as his hands found their way to Dean's hips, pulling him against him, his aching cock at the cleft of Dean's ass, sliding, nudging at his opening. Sam's head tilted back, lips parting on a moan as he teased them both. Slowly raising his head, Sam moved one hand to his own cock, pumping himself a few times, before aligning the blunt tip up with Dean's tight hole and thrusting in deep in one stroke. "Naauugh! Fuck!" Sam panted in a few breaths, head hanging, "So tight, baby... so good..." he told Dean breathlessly, leaning over him, forehead nearly against Dean's back, long bangs tickling his skin. 

Blinding pain had Dean grunting, arms almost buckling under his weight. And then he held still, adjusting to having Sam buried to the hilt inside him, splitting him, filling him up. He screwing his eyes shut, he clenched around Sam's thick cock, sensing how badly his lover want to fuck, how much control it took for him to simply wait. He swallowed, "yeah ... good... go." He pulled forward slightly, then slammed back against Sam, his head rearing up, "Go! Fuck me!"

Sam moved his hand back to Dean's hip as he pulled his head up, both hands grasping the flesh near Dean's hipbones in a bruising grip as Sam pulled his hips back, pulling nearly out of Dean, then slamming back in, and repeating. After a moment, Sam got a rhythm going as he leaned over Dean, one hand sliding off Dean's hip, reaching around him to wrap around Dean's cock, stroking him in time with his movements. "S'good, baby..." Sam told him breathlessly against Dean's neck, mouth opening to suck the tender flesh into his mouth hard, teeth scraping.

As Sam took complete control, invading him again and again, blanketing him completely and claiming him as his, Dean whimpered his pleasure. He loved that Sam didn't hesitate... that he was so fucking confident... decisive. The way Sam surged into him, over and over, making him burn and ache, branding him with that powerful body of his, with each stroke letting Dean know the extent of his hunger, making him understand what it meant to be 'taken.' There was no doubt about it, Sam was taking him, claiming him, and Dean fucking liked it. "Yeah... yeah baby, more, more," he cried out, fucking Sam's fist, and turning his head, trying to kiss his lover. 

Sam closed his eyes tight as he buried his face against Dean's neck, thrusting hard into him. Pulling his head back as Dean turned, he kissed Dean back, tongues tangling outside of their mouths, miss hitting, then lips messily connecting with lips as their tongues dueled. Each of Sam's moans and groans were swallowed up in their kisses as they devoured one another.

Moving his free hand, wrapping an arm around Dean, Sam pulled them back so that Dean was nearly sitting on his lap as he fucked up into him, his hand never losing it's rhythm on Dean's cock.

Leaning back against Sam's chest, Dean reached behind him, hand sliding up and down Sam's side, fingers biting into his flesh each time Sam slammed into him. "Fuck... fuck... fuck... so good," he chanted, raising and lower his body, using his weight to come down over Sam's rock hard cock, clenching to give his lover maximum pressure. His movements started growing wilder, his kisses messier, the pressure building low in his belly. He started gyrating his hips in circles, grinding down over Sam, sounds breaking from the back of his throat, swallowed by Sam's mouth. So hot... it was so fucking hot.

Sam thrust his hips harder, driving his cock deeper inside Dean with each thrust, there was no doubt, if Dean wasn't changed into a vampire, he'd be feeling this for a while. Gritting his teeth, Sam groaned as his head fell back, lips parting as he panted out his breaths.

Dean groaned with pleasure and pain, but refused to ask him to gentle his movements. Sam could be all predator, and maybe it was masochistic or something, but it turned Dean on, knowing Sam wanted him that bad. He clenched around Sam's cock, rolling his head back as Sam filled him again and again, branding him from the inside. "Good... good... oh God..." White hot heat lanced through Dean. "Ungh.... Sam.... please. Oh God..."

Sam squeezed his eyes closed as heat spiraled through him to settle low in his belly, his orgasm drawing close, so fucking close. Sam chased it with hard thrusts, growling low in his throat. "Oh God... Dean..." His head lowered, leaning in he kissed Dean's lips messily, his cheeks, his jaw, before biting his own lip as his balls drew up tight, "Oh fuck! Dean!" Sam's body tensed as his thrusts became erratic. His breath left him in a growled gasp as he started to cum hot and hard, filling Dean's ass. "Oh God.... oh fuck... baby, so good..." his breaths panted out like he were human, like he'd over exerted himself running, his chest rising and falling heavily.

Body locked with Sam's, moving as wildly as his lover clenching his ass, gripping... tightening around Sam's thick hardness, surrounded by him, by his scent, by his labored breaths, Dean arched back against him. Sam's name suddenly tore from the back of his throat, his only warning as he threw his head back, and kept fucking into his lovers fist. Liquid heat splattered against his stomach, smearing and coating Sam's hand as Dean came so fucking hard he thought he might die.

Sam's head fell forward, lips brushing against Dean's shoulder as he sighed softly, "S' good. Missed you so much."

"Me too, Sam. Me too." Swallowing, he rested a while like that, then slowly pulled up off Sam's lap and kneeling in front of him, closed his arms around Sam, pulling him flush against his body and kissing him softly, with all the love in his heart. "I think we need a bed in here. If... you know, I'm moving in. Just need a corner of your closet for my stuff," he chuckled, but was a little nervous. 

Sam drew his bottom lip into his mouth as he looked at Dean, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile that showed his dimples. Releasing his lip, Sam licked them, "Yeah?" Sam asked, daring to hope, to believe.

Wrapping his arms around Dean, he nodded, "You can have anything you want. Bed, closet, my tub with bubbles," he smirked softly, "whatever you want," Sam repeated, voice soft.

"Tub with bubbles, that clinches the deal," Dean grinned, kissing him again lightly. "Oh... I need you to promise me one thing."

Sam raised his brows, "What's that?"

"Mind blowing sex _every_ time I touch someone." His eyes were filled with mischief. "I hear there are a lot of people in town who like to give hugs."

Sam's entire body went rigid, eyes narrowing. "I wouldn't do that. I'm _very_ possessive," he told Dean, a warning in his tone, "But," he continued more lightheartedly, "I can see about the 'mind blowing sex' part."

"I'm counting on it." Wrestling Sam down to the lounge, he started to maul him. "Best thing about being a vampire? No waiting... we got three weeks to make up for, now... _get it up_ ," he said, his hand cupping Sam's cock as he lowered his mouth over his mate's.

Sam arched his hips up into Dean's hand a low groan spilling from his lips. "I would say that I had created a monster, but it's likely a tad too cliche." Sam tried to joke, before he was gritting his teeth against a loud low groan, hips bucking, body squirming under Dean's. "Holy fuck..."

* * *

[One Month Later]

Dean couldn't believe Sam had dragged him to a fucking play. But here he was, at a cultural event, in the heart of Seattle, dressed in a tailored black suit that put all of the suits he'd ever worn as part of his disguises to shame. Not that he thought that the money Sam spent on the suit was worth it. Still, he did look damned good in it, if the way Sam kept looking at him was something to go on.

The lights had come on for intermission and they were now in the large bar area in the foyer, for a short interval. Well he was all for drinking and had ordered a beer even though most people were holding wine glasses in their hands. "I never thought there would be naked people in a play," he told Sam. His idea of plays had been stuffy old stories, or sappy musicals. This was 'almost' porn, even if the audience wanted to make it seem like 'literature.' Literature his ass.

Sam smiled at him, as he stood holding onto a glass of champagne which he wouldn't drink. "See what you've been missing?" he winked at him.

Dean chuckled, raised the bottle and took a sip. It was foul, but he was gonna damned well get used to it. Just like he was gonna learn to like pie again. Those were two things he wouldn't give up for anything. "With you in my bed... I don't think I'm missing anything." He let his gaze travel down the length of Sam's body, swallowing hard as he wondered if he'd ever get tired of making love to a single lover. No... he knew the answer in his heart, it was just that he had trouble understanding how he could want one person so damned much. "Can we fuck in the woods again?" he asked, so low that no one else would hear them. "I want it up against a tree."

Sam chuckled, and managed to look slightly embarrassed. "I," he licked his lips, "hadn't been exactly planning on the last time, but," he smirked, "weather permitting, so certain things aren't _glitteringly_ obvious, I'd like that," he told Dean as he took a step closer and leaned in like he was whispering a secret, only to run his tongue along Dean's neck instead.

A sound welled up in Dean's throat. "I meant on the way home," he whispered, closing his eyes. He wanted to kiss Sam, but his lover pulled away, and Dean realized this wasn't really the place for it even if for years he'd said the only men that went to plays were gay. Okay that was a brain teaser he wasn't gonna try to unravel.

They chatted a while, then a well dressed woman in 'come fuck me' heels walked over to them. "Where do I know you from?" she asked him.

Dean cocked his head, looking her over. "I think you got the wrong guy."

Sam's attention was suddenly laser focused on the woman talking to his _mate_ , his smile having fallen competley away, his eyes narrowing and darkening as he watched her.

"Oh come on now, I know I know you. Muscular, handsome," she reached a hand out to run up Dean's arm, "well dressed," she pressed her lips together as though in thought as she tilted her head, eyeing Dean.

A low growl sounded deep in Sam's throat.

"All that, huh?" Dean grinned, "I still don't think we've met, I'd remember. I have a good memory." To head off any additional snarling, he introduced his lover. "This is Sam, I'm Dean, and you are...?"

"Free after the play." She told Dean with an unmistakable look in her eyes as she let her gaze travel up and down his form.

Sam stepped forward, reaching a hand out to place on the woman's shoulder as he backed her away from Dean, and into a corner before he dropped his hand away. "He says he doesn't know you, now get lost." Sam growled, nearly snarling, his eyes an inky black. He flashed his fangs at her for good measure, before turning around to face Dean. " _Don't_ , say anything," Sam told him, eyes narrowed.

Dean, who'd followed and was about to ask Sam to calm the hell down, dropped the hand he'd reached out with. Looking at the woman, he gestured with his head for her to leave. Then the lights were blinking, and people started to head back inside. Still Dean's eyes were locked with Sam's. "That was a little...over-reacty, Sam."

Sam's jaw was clenched as he looked at Dean. "No, a little over-reacty would have been had I drained her dry like I thought about doing," he answered, his voice low.

"She was harmless. Not like I would have gone anywhere with her, and you fucking know that." Though he was asking Sam to be reasonable, Dean couldn't help the slight elation he felt at Sam's possessiveness. 

Sam shook his head slightly before he leaned in again and kissed Dean's neck, "Not the point. She was addressing what is _mine_ ," he pulled his head back, "in a manner I did not like. Think if it were reversed, how would _you_ feel?"

He shivered slightly, wishing they were somewhere else. "I'm a confident man," Dean said nodding. "I know you're mine, just as much as I'm yours and there's nothing she could do to take you from me." Dean shrugged, "so I wouldn't care... I know who you're walking out those doors with."

A bell sounded, and it was the last call to get inside. They started to walk with some of the stragglers when a guy obviously checked out Sam's ass. Pushing Sam along, Dean made sure to stand right behind him and block the idiot's view. "Hurry, before it fucking starts," was all he said to Sam, his voice tight, as if his temper was barely reined in.

Sam glanced back at Dean and quirked a bro., "What? So now you _like_ plays?" the corners of his lips quirking upward into an almost smile, as some of the tension from earlier left him. "And _why_ are you walking _back there_?" Sam asked him, reaching a hand up to grab Dean and pull him up next to him.

"Because your ass is mine, only mine, that's why. Now shut up and walk." He glared at Sam, knowing what the other vampire was getting at. "I didn't show him my teeth."

Sam smirked and nodded, "Uh-huh, only because he didn't offer to polish my ass."

Dean's eyes darkened to inky black. Lips pressed together at that thought, he closed his hand around Sam's and tugged him to their seats. "Quiet, people are watching," he hissed as he sat down, daring Sam to say more.

Sam smiled at him. "I love you too," he whispered. Waiting until the lights lowered, Sam leaned in and brushed his lips across Dean's. "You're sexy when your jealous," he teased, winking at him, knowing Dean could see him clearly even in the near dark, before he turned his attention to the stage and the play, his hand resting near Dean's, their fingers overlapping.

THE END


End file.
